Raw Materials

They don't care about you son

They pretend that they do
But they don't
They don't

And they'll squeeze every mercenary dollar
Out of every one of your honest songs
And they'll secretly be delighted
If you'd just die suitably young

Then they wouldn't even need to ask permission
To use every one of your honest songs

For the car ads
The cosmetic lines
Make some greasy politician shine

Ain't that
Just what
You had in mind

All the aristos
The landed gentry
They still need farm hands

And you'll do nicely
Not entirely metaphorically

Yeah they'll flatter all your sincere charm
Every second twisting your arm
And when the money's in the bank
And they're lying on the beach in the Bahamas

No one's gonna take your call
Anymore

Cos there's a new kid in town
He ticks all the boxes
We've done the research
He reaches demographics

That we've all been
We've all been hunting for

When the raw materials are heaven sent
It'll show you just how bent
Every operation is
Shhh don't tell the kids

Diamonds or coal
Flesh and blood
It's all the same sifting through the mud
Making all the money
Watch it turn into dust
Watch it turn into dust

You ain't a fool
You know the score
You want the adulation
Then you gotta play ball
But

Who do you think is paying for it all
Who do you think is paying for it all

Yeah they'll flatter all your sincere charm
Every second twisting your arm
And when the money's in the bank
And they're lying on the beach in the Bahamas

No one's gonna take your call
Anymore

Yeah they don't care about you son

They pretend that they do
But they don't
They don't
They don't