Manic Street Preachers

Imperial bodybags, coming home in dribs and drabs
Life is numbers, with doggy tags
Filled with holes and coming back
So come on up the sky?
can't make out this line very well
Never had a chance to wave goodbye
Thrown away and unhappy
Driven by hypocracy
Nothing's finished it just fades away
Like a lover who has lost her faith
Nothing's finished it just fades away
Fades away
Imperial bodybags, Prom Queen disposible
Children wrapped in home-made flags
Imperial bodybags, Prom Queen disposible
Children wrapped in home-made flags
And here we love the kids
We're still human like everyone else