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Their Sympathetic Majesties Request, Volume 2
Disc 1
01. Apocalypse Girl
02. Big Mouth
03. Wasted Years
04. Any Hour Every Day
05. Almost Human
06. Pain in der Arsch
07. Long Lost Fight
08. Chantilly Rock
09. Wanderer
10. This Pill
11. Thats Rock n Roll
12. Breakin' the Law
13. Joe Meek
14. Esta Bien Mamacita
15. Branded
16. I'm Not Coming
17. Only One
18. Dutch Cap
19. Indian Summer
20. Volume War
Disc 2
01. Seven Day Weekend
02. Get Out My Girl
03. Write Me a Poem
04. Crazy Times Ahead
05. Nothing Baby
06. Mama Look at Me Now
07. War of the Satellites
08. Bottle of Whiskey
09. So Macho
10. Nakema
11. Ricochet
12. I'm a Confused Man
13. Hey Chuck Berry
14. Cry to Me
15. Mathusian Blues
16. Light as a Feather
17. No Reason to Complain
18. Electric Man
19. Tubs Twist
20. Long Gone
Like weeds on a rockface waiting for the scythe
Ricochet - ricochet
The world is on a corner waiting for jobs
Ricochet - ricochet
Turn the holy pictures so they face the wall
And who can bear to be forgotten
And who can bear to be forgotten

March of flowers, march of dimes
These are the prisons, these are the crimes
Men wait for news while thousands are still asleep
Dreaming of tramlines factories pieces of machinery
Mine shafts things like that
March of flowers, march of dimes
These are the prisons, these are the crimes
Sound of thunder, sound of gold
Sound of the devil breaking parole
Ricochet - it's not the end of the world

Sound of thunder, sound of gold
Sound of the devil breaking parole
Ricochet - ricochet
These are the prisons these are the crimes
Teaching life in a violent new way
Ricochet - ricochet
Turn the holy pictures so they face the wall
And who can bear to be forgotten
And who can bear to be forgotten

March of flowers, march of dimes
These are the prisons, these are the crimes
Early, before the sun, they struggle off to the gates
In their secret fearful places they see their lives
Unravelling before them
March of flowers - march of dimes
These are the prisons, these are the crimes
Sound of thunder, sound of gold
Sound of the devil breaking parole
Ricochet it's not the end of the world

But when they get home, damp eyed and weary
They smile and crush their children to their heaving chests
Making unfulfillable promises
For who can bear to be forgotten