Julius Seizure Act Iii Scene Ii Verse 73118 lyrics

Second Plebian: Peace! Let us hear what Anthony can say.

Anthony: You gentle Romans-

All: Peace, ho! Let us hear him.

Anthony: I come to praise, not to bury, the shoddy and the rooted -
To lament for the passing of those men, Safari suited,
Who`d flatten you with mindless glee when they got really newted.

Behind the bottleshop you`d see the roughest justice done:
Yeah, it was assault and battery - but with a sense of fun,
And a drink together after, when the ambulance had come.

Who would have thought you`d ever miss the barmaid`s brutal snarl
And guys looking at you strange while she says, ``What`s yours, darl?``
``Wanna go?`` is all you recall, before the blow and grand mal.

``You gotta fucking mouth on ya,`` those moustached yobs would say
Back when being literate was something to hide away
And being mediocre meant you played in the V.F.A.

But now everyone is talking, and it`s oh so tres witty:
All those fucking D.J`s and their flashy repartee -
It`s always breakfast down in Hell, and radio compulsory.

From McGuiness to McGuire to Douglas fucking Aiton
There`s a whole new type of person that`s takin` over this damn nation:
And I`m not talkin` some racist crap about Asian immigration -

If you`re a yobbo now, you`re rooted; no one says, ``I`ll `ave ya, pal`` -
Listen to Adrian Martin, Jon Casimir, et al:
Excellence is demanded, or the critics give you hell.

Everyone`s got a fucking voice - there`s personae right and left:
They must learn this stuff in school: I mean, what fucking next?
Even the E.G cadets crap on, then move to the London desk.

Who needs another columnist to point out