Roger Waters – 4.41 AM (Sexual Revolution)
Added to UG By Mikhailo (mikhailo_@mail.ru)

Hey…girl
Take out the dagger
And let’s have a stab at the sexual revolution
Hey girl
Let freedom for all be our rallying call
Tomorrow lets make…our new resolution
Yeah, but tonight lie still
While I plunder your sweet grave
And remember
Only the poor can be saved

Hey girl
As I’ve always said I prefer your lips red
Not what the good Lord made
But what he intended
Hey girl
Don’t point the finger at me
I am only a rat in a maze like you
And only the dead go free
So…please hold my hand
As we blunder through the maze
And remember
Nothing can grow without rain
(Thunder)

Don’t point
Don’t point your finger at me
I a[G/F#]woke in a fever
The bedclothes were[G/F#] all soaked in sweat
She said “You’ve been [G/F#]having a nightmare
And it’s [G/F#]not over yet”
Then she picked up the doggy in the window
(The one with the [G/F#]waggly tail)
And she put him to bed between two bits of bread

Roger Waters – 4.58 AM (Dunroamin, Duncarin, Dunlivin)
Added to UG By Mikhailo (mikhailo_@mail.ru)

Hey kid, you looking for a lift?…Get on up here
How’s it going good buddy?
I nailed ducks to the wall
Kept my heart in dark ruins
I built bungalows all over the hills
Dunroamin, duncarin, dunlivin
Took my girl to the country
To sleep out under the moon
Next thing she’s going crazy
Women are like that kid
What the hell can you do?
She waits for the real Mr. Right to come
Gently removing her heart
With his promises of real communication
I saw a program about that on TV……..
Who’s always picking up the tab
Who built a bungalow for his mum and dad

Me…..
Who took you out to all the shows
Who worked his fingers to the bone

Me….
While you were asleep
It was me…I did
I kept you in buttons and bows
Christ all those clothes
So you could encourage this creep
With his neat feet
And his clean fingernails
With his wise but twinkling eyes
He’s a rock standing out in an ocean of doubt
Get movin’, get off the road ya Goddam faggot
And compromise
I’d like to go on with this bit of a song
Describing this schmuck
I’d like to go on, but I’m going to throw up
(Not in my rig you don’t boy…get the hell out of here)