Texty: Pink Floyd. Animals. Dogs.

You got to be crazy, you gotta have a real need
You gotta sleep on your toes and when you're on the streets
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat
With your eyes closed
Then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking

And after a while, you can work on points for style
Like the club tie and the firm handshake
A certain look in the eye, an easy smile
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to
So that when they turn their backs on you
You'll get the chance to put the knife in

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder
You know it's going to get harder
Harder, harder as you get older
And in the end you'll pack up, fly down south
Hide your head in the sand
Just another sad old man, all alone and dying of cancer

And when you lose control you'll reap the harvest you have sown
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone
And it's too late to lose the weight
You used to need to throw around
So have a good drown as you go down all alone
Dragged down by the stone

I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused
Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used
Gotta stay awake gotta try and shake off
This creeping malaise
If I don't stand my own ground
How can I find my way out of this maze?

Deaf, dumb and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone's expendable and no one has a real friend
And it seems to you the thing to do
Would be to isolate the winner
And everything's done under the sun
And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer

Who was born in a house full of pain?
Who was trained not to spit in the fan?
Who was told what to do by the man?
Who was broken by trained personnel?
Who was fitted with collar and chain?
Who was given a pat on the back?

Who was breaking away from the pack?
Who was only a stranger at home?
Who was ground down in the end?
Who was found dead on the phone?
Who was dragged down by the stone?
Who was dragged down by the stone?