Hard-Fi - Suburban Knights
Suburban days, they last so long Each shop and office, we sing our song, we all sing, We ain’t got nothing, nothing to do, A big fat nothing, Nothing for me nothing for you It seems that Richard Archer and...
Suburban days, they last so long Each shop and office, we sing our song, we all sing, We ain’t got nothing, nothing to do, A big fat nothing, Nothing for me nothing for you
It seems that Richard Archer and the boys have little to do in the land of suburbia, (Staines is where they come from I think and having been there I can see what they mean) so wile away the time walking into shops an offices singing their song. I don’t know what this song might be; it might even be this song, although I wonder what the response might be from the shop owners and office managers. After all how can you manage a productive work place with a bunch of blokes turning up out of the blue and bursting into spontaneous song?
Then again maybe, this manager has lucked out having Hard-Fi turning up at their establishment, as it could have all gone so wrong if a bunch of rapping Chavs had turned up. To be fair considering these events are happening in Staines, then there is a fair chance that could be the case. Then again maybe this turning up at an office and singing about having nothing to do is their way of asking for a job.
Suburban dreams, just out of reach
Work till you die, thats what they teach you at school
With that in mind, whats there to lose
My friends and I don’t stop until we’ve got fags and booze
Hear them all singing
Richard and the rest of the boys now become a little bit dystopian and decide to have a go at their teachers, claiming that they didn’t make them feel enthused about a career. They might have a point in a way about this being the way life is but I always personally felt my teachers kept that fact a little more secret, as I only realized that fact once I finished my A-Levels (luckily Uni is distracting me from that eventual fate).
As a result with their dissatisfaction, they decide to hit the bottle and smoke themselves silly. I would be careful as that may be a little bit detrimental to their only past-time. I mean if they smoke too much then they’ll sound rubbish, raspy and dry to say the least. Also not to mention the fact if they do it while they are pissed they will sound even worse as the Red Hot Chili Peppers proved that fateful August night (oh yes I will continue with that one).
Are were the ones that you’ve forgotten Oh but we will not be denied Ah coming out of the shadows Ay yeah yeah we rock the satellite
The boys seems to be getting a little bit rowdy, which could possibly the result of their binge drinking. They start talking about smashing the system or possibly mugging old women. It’s hard to say but the idea of Hard-Fi emerging in a drunken state from the shadows does make it a little bit hard to sleep at night (Like the boogie-man but more harmonic and indie-ish). I don’t know what they are meaning by rocking the satellites, although I’m glad at this point I don’t have a Sky dish outside my window (well I do at home but not in Cardiff luckily) as I would be quite annoyed if Hard-Fi started playing with it. I mean after all it would mean calling out a Sky technician and they are rather elusive creatures (especially when you have a technical fault).
Suburban nights, they get so hot People get angry, We sing our song we all sing, But global terror they say, We are at war, But ain’t got time for that coz’ these bills keep dropping through my door oh oh Hear them all singing
Things are getting hot and the heat and their singing is starting to bother some of the locals now. For some reason this seems to link to the war on terror in a very tenuous way although maybe I’ve missed something and the guys decided to enlist in the Army and have been sent to Iraq. Maybe this is the result of going to an Army recruitment office to do their little sing song. Still though, they can pay off their many bills now, so that the loan shark doesn’t have to break their legs.
All these people who, criticize us well, They’re only saying what were seeing with our own eyes This one way system it ain’t, ain’t paradise Not everybody wants to race, wants to fight
Richard and the lads now take a pop at their critics who don’t take too kindly to their spontaneous singing game and retort by claiming Staines isn’t a paradise. You don’t need to tell me twice really. I must admit though, I’d like to see how the last line goes down if a Chav tries starting on them.
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