Nostalgic Pushead Lyrics - Gold Against The Soul - Manic Street Preachers

One, two, three, four 

Five, six, seven, eight 

I am the raping sunglass gaze 

Of sweating man and escort agencies 

60's Alienation the anthem of care 

Now a knife constantly slashing eyelids 

Slavery to the beat 

Slavery to the chord 

Slavery to the pleasure 

Slavery to the God 

Slavery to the beat 

Slavery to the chord 

Slavery to the pleasure 

Slavery to the God 

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They dig the new scene and their parties 

Where Stonehenge is worshiped and drugs a deity 

Vicarious thrills rerun their youth 

We follow, we have no voice, the dead 

Radio nostalgia is radio death 

I wanna cover diamonds on my wife 

Hard rock nostalgia the Stones on CD 

Tranquilized icons for the sweet paralyzed 

Slavery to the beat 

Slavery to the chord 

Slavery to the pleasure 

Slavery to the God 

Slavery to the beat 

Slavery to the chord 

Slavery to the pleasure 

Slavery to the God 

Photos 

So cool, the new sound of the decade 

Thinks it's so fresh not a post Elvis still 

All taste is nothing old pictures blow dried 

Rebellion, it always sells at a profit 

I am a face of fashion in Soho Square 

My tie is Paul Smith or Gaultier 

My cheeks blood red as my favorite port 

But, hey, cocaine keeps cholesterol at bay 

Slavery to the beat 

Slavery to the chord 

Slavery to the pleasure 

Slavery to the God 

Slavery to the beat 

Slavery to the chord 

Slavery to the pleasure 

Slavery to the God, some God