Pink Floyd The Wall

Christmas comes but once a year

For every girl and boy

The laughter and the joy

They find in each new toy

I'll tell you of a little boy

Who lives across the way

This little fella 's Christmas

Is just another day

It was just before dawn

One miserable morning

In black '44

When the forward commander

was told to sit tight

When he asked that

his men be withdrawn

And the generals gave thanks

As the other ranks

Held back the enemy tanks

For a while

And the Anzio bridgehead

Was held for the price

Of a few hundred ordinary lives

He's the little boy

That Santa Claus forgot

And Goodness knows

He didn 't want a lot

He sent a note to Santa

For some soldiers and a drum

It broke his little heart

When he found Santa hadn't come

In the street he envies

All those lucky boys

So ya thought ya

Might like to

Go to the show

To feel the warm thrill

of confusion

That space cadet glow

Tell me, is something

eluding you, sunshine

Is this not what

you expected to see

If you wanna find out

what's behind these cold eyes

You'll just have to

claw your way through this disguise

Mama loves her baby

And Daddy loves you too

And the sea may look

warm to you, babe

And the sky may look blue

Ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, babe

Ooh, ooh, ooh

Baby blue

Ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, babe

If you should go skating

On the thin ice of modern life

Dragging behind you

The silent reproach

Of a million tear-stained eyes

Don 't be surprised

When a crack in the ice

Appears under your feet

You slip out of your depth

and out of your mind

With you fear

flowing out behind you

As you claw the thin ice

Daddy's flown across the ocean

Leaving just a memory

A snapshot in the family album

Daddy, what else

did you leave for me

Daddy, what'd ya leave behind for me

All in all it was

Just a brick in the wall

All in all it was all

just bricks in the wall

Easy. Be careful.

- What?

- Will you put me on there?

- Well, where's your mother, then?

- She's gone to the shops.

Yes, all right.

How's that then? Enjoying it?

Lovely, lovely.

Now off you go.

Go on.

Now what have I told you about this?

What have I told you?

Go on, go on now. Sling your hook.

Go on. Sling your hook.

And kind old King George

Sent Mother a note

When he heard that Father was gone

It was, I recall

In the form of a scroll

Gold leaf and all

And I found it one day

In a drawer of old photographs

Hidden away

And my eyes still grow damp

to remember

His Majesty signed

With his own rubber stamp

It was dark all around

There was frost in the ground

When the tigers broke free

And no one survived

From the Royal Fusiliers Company C

They were all left behind

Most of them dead

The rest of them dying

And that's how the high command

Took my daddy from me

Did you see the frightened ones

Did you hear the falling bombs

Did you ever wonder why

we had to run for shelter

When the promise of a brave new world

unfurled beneath the clear blue sky

Did you see the frightened ones

Did you hear the falling bombs

The flames are all long gone

but the pain lingers on

Good-bye

Blue sky

Good-bye, blue sky

Good-bye

Good-bye

Wait for me, Pinky,

you rotten bleeder.

- They're my bullets, ain't they?

- I don't know.

Come on, Tubs.

It's great down in the tunnel.

Don't you think

it'd be dangerous, Pinky?

No. Don't be daft.

- You all right, Tubs?

- Yeah. Hurt me knee a bit.

- Come on.

- Na. It's too dangerous.

- We'll wait for the train.

- Give me the torch.

Pinky! Here comes the train !

Get off the line,

you bloody idiot! Here it comes!

Pinky, get off the line!

Here it comes!

Pinky, get off the line!

You !

You! Yes, you !

Stand still, laddie!

When we grew up and went to school

There were certain teachers who would

hurt the children anyway they could

By pouring their derision

upon anything we did

Exposing every weakness

However carefully hidden

by the kids

What have we here, laddie?

Mysterious scribblings?

A secret code?

No. Poems, no less.

Poems, everybody!

The lad here reckons himself

a poet.

"Money, get back.

I'm all right, Jack.

Keep your hands

off my stack.

New car, caviar,

four-star daydream.

Think I'll buy me

a football team."

Absolute rubbish, laddie!

Get on with your work.

Repeat after me:

An acre is the area

of a rectangle...

whose length is one furlong...

and whose width is one chain.

But in this town it was well known

When they got home at night

their fat and psychopathic wives

Would thrash them

within inches of their lives

We don 't need no education

We don't need no thought control

No dark sarcasm in the classroom

Teacher, leave them kids alone

Hey, teacher, leave them kids alone

All in all it's just

another brick in the wall

Wrong! Do it again !

All in all you're just

another brick in the wall

We don 't need no education

If you don't eat your meat,

you can't have any pudding!

We don't need no thought control

How can you have any pudding

if you don't eat your meat?

No dark sarcasm in the classroom

You ! Yes, you, laddie!

Poems, everybody.

The lad here reckons himself a poet.

Teachers, leave them kids alone

Hey, teacher, leave those kids alone

All in all you're just

another brick in the wall

All in all you're just

another brick in the wall

We don 't need no education

No dark sarcasm in the classroom

Again. An acre is the area

of a rectangle...

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