The Ghost Of Lemora - Shoes With Blue Jeans Lyrics

Turn off your mobile,
Turn on your brain.
You're slow, get out of my way.
I can hear your conversation a mile away.
I'm going somewhere, I bet you're not,
You're a daytime TV dreamer.
Surfing through your satellite receiver.
You're a waste of space, yeah.
Look in the mirror, what do you see?
Do you know what you want to be?
Have you anything left to lose?
Was this the life that you would choose?
Conspiracy theories take up your time,
Wake up, where's the proof?
Be aware, but don't be scared,
Don't distort the truth.
Cover versions, what's the point?
Why don't you write your own?
You won on TV,
Now you've sold your soul.
Instant fame, fifteen minutes,
Attention gone, I just don't get it.
Can you tell me what it's worth?
Do you enjoy the C-List curse?
Zeitgeist riders on the last train,
You've only one stop to go.
Your latest trend.
Charities have gone to far,
It's best to start at home.
Clipboard mugger.
The case is called,
The evidence stacked,
Yet still they walk away.
Technicalities can persuade.
Cashpoint queues, am I waiting for god?
No, the man at the front.
You can sometimes get what you need,
But not what you want.
Biographies of celebrities
Who've not reached puberty.
It's in large print.
Put down lines still cloud my mind
As the moment fades away.
Always to late.
Crises I can solve in a day,
It's the small things that knaw away.
Nothings perfect, don't patronise.
We can, at least, harmonise.
Gastro pubs. litter louts.
No black cabs. Ticket touts.
Living statues. Closing time.
Chav, with kebab. No smoking signs.
Toilet attendants. Trousers worn low.
Caravans. Late night phone-in shows.
Chewing gum, a lack of hygiene.
Suits with trainers.
Shoes with blue jeans.