Million Dead - Holloway Prison Blues

This is one band I will rarely be able to understand more than half the referances in the songs, and they are so wonderful for it. Its a huge shame that they split.

This one... I think, is some sort of and attempt to show people the writers (I believe Frank Turner) view on the world, and how we kid ourselves about the most inconsequential things while 'supermarkets drain villages' of their water for us western types. And that the many terrible things that happen for us by MNCs and various other organisations are ok, because we (the Liberal Capitalist countries) have won, we are at an 'End of History'.

Never one to express myself correctly i think thats some sort of illumination on the song. Please read, and if you can find the song somewhere, its a corker.


"The leg bone is connected to the foot bone
is connected to the Export Processing Zones,
and it’s nothing we condone,
but everybody owns a pair of those shoes.

I looked a little closer at the walls of my house,
and to my surprise they were made out of glass.
So I made my way softly towards my front door,
but to my surprise it was bolted shut and barred.

The bloodstream gets its sugar from the intestine
gets its sugar from the supermarket chain
that left the village drained.
Every high street the same soulless refrain.

I looked a little closer at the walls of my house,
and to my surprise they were made out of glass.
So I made my way softly towards my front door,
but to my surprise it was bolted shut and barred.

The newspaper reads like a list of charges brought against me.
So I’m changing my plea to an open address to the jury.

I confess that I was there on that grassy knoll,
and I confess I helped fake the moon landings as well.
But I confess I’ve yet to let slip my lowest low:
there’ve been times when I’ve pretended I didn’t know about my skeleton.

Your honour I swear that I can explain;
there are mitigating factors to consider in this case.
I was looking out of a window to the west.
Francis Fukuyama took me by the arm,
won me over with his famous intellectual charm,
swore this beauty wouldn’t do any harm.
We didn’t look east because the sun was setting.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the faintest reflection in the pane of a window.
I suspect that I’ve lost myself in the guilty reflection of the pain that it lets through.
I must confess I’ve started throwing stones around the house.
I don’t mean to moan but I never even signed the lease.

The newspaper reads like a list of charges brought against me.
So I’m changing my plea to an open address to the jury.

I confess that I was there on that grassy knoll,
and I confess I helped fake the moon landings as well.
But I confess I’ve yet to let slip my lowest low:
there’ve been times when I’ve pretended I didn’t know about my skeleton."