Deep fried in kelvin lyrics

Artist  : Pulp 
Song : Deep fried in kelvin
 
Oh children of the future ... conceived in the
toilets at Meadowhall ... 
to be raised on the cheap cold slabs of garage
floors ... 
rolling empty cans down the stairway ... (don't
you love that sound?) ...
whilst the thoughts of a bad social worker ran
through his head ... 
trying to remember what he learnt at training
college ... 
Lester said he wasn't allowed in here ... so why
don't you get lost? ... 
and if you grow up ... then when you grow up,
maybe ... maybe you can live ... 
live on Kelvin ... yeah you can live in Kelvin
... 
on the promenade with the concrete walkways ... 
where pidgeons go to die ... 
(a woman on the fourteenth floor noticed that the
ceiling
was bulging as if under a great weight. 
When the council investigated they discovered
that the man in the flat 
above had transported a large quantity of soil
into his living-room, 
in which several plants he had stolen from a
local park were growing. 
When questioned, the man said all he wanted was a
garden. 
When questioned, the man said all he wanted was a
garden.) ... 
Oh God, I think the future's been fried ... deep
fried in Kelvin ... 
and now it's rotting behind the remains of a
stolen motorbike ... 
I haven't touched it, honest ... but there isn't
anything else to do ...
we don't need your sad attempts at social
conscience based 
on taxi-rides home at night when exhibition opens
... 
we just want your car radio ... and those Reflux
speakers ... 
now ... suffer the little children to come to me
... 
and I will tend their adventure playground
splinters with cigarette burns 
and feed them fizzy orange and chips ... 
and then they grow up straight and tall ... 
and then they grow up to live ... on Kelvin ... 
yeah ... we can have ghettos too ... 
only we use air-rifles instead of machine-guns
... 
stitch that ... and we drunk driving lights ... 
in the end ... the question you have to ask
yourself is ... 
are you talking to me ... or are you chewing a
brick?