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STUDIO ALBUM

ANIMALS
  1. Pigs On The Wing, Part 1

  2. dogs

  3. Pigs (Three Different Ones)

  4. sheep

  5. Pigs On The Wing, Part 2

Foto Ruta Floyd

DAVID GILMOUR - Voice and Guitar

ROGER WATERS - Voice and Bass.

RICHARD WRIGHT - Keyboards

NICK MASON - Drums and Percussion

 

PRODUCER - Pink Floyd

 

ENGINEER - Brian Humphries

 

STUDIOS - Brittania Row Studios

 

Posted on 21 January 1977

PIGS ON THE WING, PART 1 (Waters)

If you didn't care what  

happened to me, 

And I didn't care for you, 

We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain 

Occasionally glancing  

up through the rain. 

Wondering which of the buggars to blame 

And watching for pigs on the wing.

If you didn't care  

what happened to me, 

And I didn't worry about you 

We would find ourselves zigzagging  

through boredom and pain 

Occasionally raising our eyes through the rain. 

Wondering which of the bastards to blame 

And hoping to see flying pigs.

DOGS (Waters, Gilmour)

You gotta be crazy, you gotta have  

a real need. 

You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street, 

You gotta be able to pick out the easy

meat with your eyes closed. 

And then moving silently, downwind and out of sight, 

You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking. 

And after a while,

you can work on points for style. 

Like the club tie,  

and the firm handshake, 

A certain look in the eye and  

an easy smile. 

You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to, 

So that when they turn their backs on you, 

You'll get the chance to put the knife in. 

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder. 

You know it's going to get harder, and harder,

and harder as you get older. 

And in the end you'll pack up 

and fly down south, 

Hide your head in the sand, 

Just another sad old man, 

All alone and dying of cancer. 

And when you loose control,

you'll reap the harvest you have sown.           _cc781905-5cde-3194 -bb3b-136bad5cf58d_    

And as the fear grows,

the bad blood slows and turns to stone. 

And it's too late to lose

the weight you used to need to throw 

around. 

So have a good drown, as you go down, 

all alone, 

Dragged down by the stone. 

I gotta admit that I'm a little confused. 

Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm 

just being used. 

Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake 

off this creeping malaise. 

If I don't stand my own ground, 

How can I find my way out of this maze? 

Deaf, dumb, and blind, 

you just keep on pretending 

That everyone's expendable and 

no-one has a real friend. 

And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner       _cc781905-5cde-3194-bb3b- 136bad5cf58d_  

And everything's done under the sun, 

And you believe at heart, 

everyone's a killer. 

Who was born in a house full of pain. 

Who was trained not to spit 

in the fan. 

Who was told what 

to do by the man. 

Who was broken 

by trained personnel. 

Who was fitted with necklace and chain. 

Who was given a seat in the stand. 

Who was breaking away from the pack. 

Who was only a stranger at home. 

Who was ground down in the end. 

Who was found dead on the phone. 

Who was dragged down by the stone.

You have to be crazy, you have to have  

a real necessity 

You have to sleep on your toes, and when you are on the street 

You have to be able to mince meat easily  

with eyes closed 

So quietly approaching With the wind against and unseen

You have to jump at the right moment, without thinking. 

And after a while,

you can earn points in elegance

Like the club tie  

and the firm handshake 

A certain look in the eyes  

and an easy smile 

You have to earn the trust of those you lie to 

So that when they turn their backs on you 

Have a chance to put the knife in it. 

You gotta keep an eye looking over your shoulder 

You know it's going to get more and more 

hard as you get older 

And, in the end, you will pack your bags

and you will fly south 

And you will hide your head in the sand 

Like a sad old man más 

All alone dying of cancer. 

And when you lose control

you will reap the harvest you have sown 

And as the fear grows,

bad blood slows down until it turns to stone. 

And it's too late to drop 

the weight you used to need download 

around you 

So, have a good sinking while,

lonely, you sink, 

Dragged by the stone. 

I have to admit I'm a bit confused 

Sometimes it seems to me as if

was being used.

I have to stay awake, I have to try

Shake off this creeping malaise.

If I don't stand my ground,

How am I going to manage to get out of this maze? 

Deaf, dumb and blind, 

you continue to believe that

Everyone is expendable and that 

no one has a true friend 

And it seems to you that what had to be done is to isolate the winner

And everything is done under the sun 

And you believe with all your heart that 

everyone is a murderer. 

Who was born in a house full of pain 

Who was trained not to spit 

in the fan.

Who told the man 

 what I had to do. 

Who was trained 

by trained personnel 

Who was equipped with necklace and chain 

Who received a seat in the rostrum 

Who was leaving the pack 

Who was just a stranger at home 

Who, in the end, was pulverized 

Who was found dead at phone 

Who was dragged by the stone.

PIGS (THREE DIFFERENT ONES) (Waters)

Big man, pig man,  

ha ha charade you are. 

You well heeled big wheel,  

ha ha charade you are. 

And when your hand is on your heart, 

You're nearly a good laugh,  

Almost a joker, 

With your head down  

in the pig bin, 

Saying "Keep on digging." 

Pig stain on your fat chin. 

What do you hope to find?. 

When you're down in the pig mine. 

You're almost a laugh, 

You're nearly a laugh 

But you're really a cry. 

Bus stop rat bag,  

ha ha charade you are. 

You fucked up old hag,  

ha ha charade you are. 

You radiate cold shafts of broken glass. 

You're nearly a good laugh, 

Almost worth a quick grin. 

You like the feel of steel, 

You're hot stuff  

with a hatpin, 

And good fun  

with a hand gun. 

You're almost a laugh, 

You're nearly a laugh 

But you're really a cry. 

Hey you, Whitehouse, 

Ha ha charade you are. 

You house proud town house, 

Ha ha charade you are 

You're trying to keep our 

feelings off the street. 

You're almost a real treat, 

All tight lips and cold feet 

And do you feel abused? 

You gotta stem the evil tide, 

And keep it all on the inside. 

Mary you're nearly a treat, 

Mary you're nearly a treat 

But you're really a cry.

Big man, pig man,  

ha ha, you are a fake

You rich big shot,  

ha ha, you are a fake

And when your hand is on your heart 

You are almost a good joke 

Almost a jester, 

With your head in  

at the pig feeder 

Saying "keep digging." 

Pig spots on your fat chin 

What do you hope to find? 

When you're down there in the pig mine?

You are almost a laugh 

You are almost a laugh 

But in reality you are a cry. 

Old Bus Stop Rat,  

ha ha, you are a fake

You fucking old hag,  

ha ha, you are a fake

You radiate cold rays of broken glass 

You are almost a good joke 

You almost deserve a slight smile 

Do you like the feel of steel, 

You're hot stuff  

with a hat pin 

And some good fun  

with a hand revolver 

You are almost a laugh 

You are almost a laugh 

But in reality you are a cry. 

Hey you White House, 

ha ha, you are a fake

You proud city house mouse, 

ha ha, you are a fake

Are you trying to keep our

feelings away from the street 

You are almost a real delight 

All hermetic lips and cold feet 

And do you feel insulted? 

You have to contain the evil tide 

And keep it all inside

Mary, you are almost a delight 

Mary, you are almost a delight 

But you're actually a cry.

SHEEP (Waters)

Harmlessly passing your time  

in the grassland away; 

Only dimly aware of a certain  

join in the air. 

You better watch out, 

There may be dogs about 

I've looked over Jordan, and I have seen 

Things are not what they seem. 

What do you get for pretending  

the danger's not real. 

Meek and obedient you follow the leader 

Down well trodden corridors  

into the valley of steel. 

What a surprise! 

A look of terminal shock in your eyes. 

Now things are really what they seem. 

No, this is no bad dream. 

The Lord is my shepherd,

I shall not want He makes me down to lie 

Through green pastures

He leadeth me the silent waters by. 

With bright knives 

He releaseth my soul. 

He maketh me to hang on hooks 

in high places. 

He converted me to lamb cutlets, 

For him, He hath great power, 

and great hunger. 

When come the day 

we lowly ones, 

Through quiet reflection, 

and great dedication 

Master the art of karate, 

Lo, we shall rise up, 

And then we'll make the bugger's eyes water.

Bleating and babbling

I fell on his neck with a scream. 

Wave upon wave of demented avengers 

March cheerfully out of darkness 

into the dream.

Have you heard the news? 

The dogs are dead! 

You better stay home 

And do as you're told. 

Get out of the road if you want to grow old.

Harmlessly spending your time

in the distant meadows 

only dimly aware of a certain

restlessness in the air.

You better watch out

there could be dogs around 

I have looked over Jordan and I have seen that things 

they are not what they seem.

what do you gain by pretending

that the dangers are not real? 

Meek and obedient, follow the leader 

You descend through the corridors

towards  the steel valley 

What a surprise! 

A look of terminal fright hits your eyes.

Now things are really what they seem 

No, this is not a bad dream. 

The Lord is my shepherd, I will not want him to make me fall.

Through green pastures led me across silent waters with shining knives set my soul free.

hung me with hooks

in high places.

He turned me into mutton chops, so he has great power.

and great hunger.

When the day comes when

we humble ones by silent reflection and great dedication will master the art of karate, lo and behold we will rise up and then we will make the bastards' eyes water.

bleating and babbling

we fell on his neck with a cry

One over another, waves. demented avengers 

They march merrily from the dark

to plunge into sleep.

Have you heard the news?

The dogs are dead! 

Better stay home and do what you are told 

Stay out of the way if you want to get old.

PIGS ON THE WING, PART 2 (Waters)

You know that I care what happens to you, 

And I know that you care for me. 

So I don't feel alone, 

Or the weight of the stone, 

Now that I've found somewhere safe 

To bury my bone. 

And any fool knows 

a dog needs a home, 

A shelter from pigs on the wing.

Tú sabes que me preocupa lo que te suceda,         _cc781905-5cde- 3194-bb3b-136bad5cf58d_    

And I know that you care about me. 

So I don't feel alone, 

I don't even feel the weight of the stone, 

Now that I have found a safe place 

To bury my bone 

And any fool knows 

that a dog needs a home 

A shelter against flying pigs.

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