[Acoustic intro - cold, mechanical synth pulse, retro drum machine] [Verse 1 - Flat, expressionless British vocal] Grey rain on the London tarmac. Train arrives, there is no turnin' back. Dull faces stare into the screen, The coldest city that you've ever seen. No one speaks, it is the city law, Just bodies movin' through a swingin' door. [Verse 2 - Monotone delivery, young male, detached] Clock ticks on the office wall. No meaning in the concrete hall. Another day, another cup of tea, A boring life for a bloke like me. Just a robot in a proper queue, Do you feel the boredom too? [Bridge - Direct address, music drops to a simple, raw bassline] Oi, Jan St John-Knight. Listen close to the track, alright? Do you fancy my voice or is it proper rubbish? Just a young British bloke, spittin' cold and sluggish. Tell me, Jan. Is it sorted or what? [Chorus - Synth-pop talk-singing, robotic and flat] We are trapped in an analogue frame. No emotion, we are all the same. No fuss, no tears, no grand design, Just your digital world and mine. Yeah, it’s a modern world, Jan. [Verse 3 - Cold wave style, short sentences] Teatime comes, the sky gets black. Walking home on a quiet track. Rain falls on my woollen coat, Leaving a message that I never wrote. Static hums from the radio station, Just another Thursday in a tired nation. [Chorus - Synth-pop talk-singing, robotic and flat] We are trapped in an analogue frame. No emotion, we are all the same. No fuss, no tears, no grand design, Just your digital world and mine. [Outro - Fading drum machine, casual spoken word] No emotion, Jan. Completely deadpan. Just another Thursday, innit. [Fade out]
