late home tonight part 1

• amused to death'ten bir parca
  
  // chirping birds, dripping tap, mooing bovine //
  
  standing at the window
  a farmer's wife in oxfordshire
  glances at the clock it's nearly time for tea
  she doesn't see
  the phantom in the hedgerow dip its wing
  
  // moo //
  
  doesn't hear the engine sing
  
  // moo, jet airplane //
  
  radio voice:
  
  (?)...two zero three...(?)
  but in the cockpit's techno glow
  behind the ray ban shine
  
  radio voice:
  
  roger (?) takeoff right after runway two zero (?)
  the kid from cleveland
  in the comfort of routine
  scans his dials and smiles
  
  // clicks //
  
  radio voice:
  
  pilot to navigator... (?)
  nose, check
  flaps, check
  (?), check
  (?), check
  (?), check
  
  secure in the beauty of military life
  there is no right, no wrong
  only tin cans and cordite and white cliffs
  and blue skies and flight... flight... flight
  
  radio voice:
  
  (?)
  the beauty of military life
  no questions, only orders and flight
  
  radio voice:
  
  (?) there you go
  only flight
  
  // jet airplane //
  
  what a beautiful sight in his wild blue dream
  the eternal child leafs through his war magazines
  and his kind uncle sam feeds ten trillion in change
  into the total entertainment
  combat video game
  and up here in the stands
  the fans are goin' wild
  as the cheerleaders flip
  when you wiggle your hip
  and we all like the bit when you take
  the jeans from the refridgerator and
  then the bad guy gets hit
  and were you struck by the satisfying
  way the swimsuit sticks to her skin
  like bb gun days
  when knives pierce autumn leaves
  but that's okay, see the childern bleed
  it'll look great on the tv
  
  // dripping tap //
  
  and in tripoli, another ordinary wife
  stares at the dripping tap her old man hadn't
  time to fix
  too busy mixing politics and rhythm
  in the street below
  
  /* while waters sings, a woman is shouting in the background in egyptian arabic... */
  
  wife:
  
  and then what !!!! why don't you ever help me? you all the time leave me alone at home and go join your fat friends in your endless useless discussions...
  
  i work for you and your family from dawn to dusk, and you don't give a damn!
  
  i badly need to rest, i just wish the devil's angel will soon come and take me with him...
  
  /* then the beating drums start, and here everything is very chaotic. there are different voices in the background. a tv (or radio) commentator is talking, but what he's saying is not clear and at the same time there is a crowd shouting slogans in arabic. also, a baby is crying. */
  
  accouncer:
  
  ...is great... is great... god is great...
  crowd:
  
  death, death, death to the (imperialists?)!...
  /* possibly some kind of a demonstration of fundamentalist muslims. */
  
  /* at the end of the beating drums, right before the missile explosion... */
  
  announcer:
  
  ...his days are rarely spent at home... as for her, she stays alone; she stays alone at home... while all the men are out gathered at the square, she's left to loneliness and (oblivion?).
  // explosion //
  // heartbeat tone/noise signal, muffled jet sound //
  
  /* it was suggested that roger got these arabic phrases from an egyptian movie and mixed them into his song. the arabic is egyptian arabic and not lybian arabic as it was meant to be, since this song is supposed to be about the bombing of the lybian capital, tripoli. */
• parçanın sonunda duyulan patlama efekti, get your filthy hands off my desert'teki ses efektidir.