I was a Maoist intellectual in the music industry

 I always knew that I could seize the world's imagination
 And show the possibilities for transformation
 I saw a nation in decay, but also a solution: Permanent cultural revolution
 Whenever I played my protest songs the press applauded me
 Rolled out the red carpet, parted the Red Sea
 But the petit bourgeois philistines stayed away
 They preferred their artists to have nothing to say

 How did I pass my time on earth? Now it can be revealed:
 I was a Maoist intellectual in the entertainment field

 I showed the people how they lived and told them it was bad
 Showed them the insanity inside the bureaucrat
 And the archetypes and stereotypes that were my stock in trade
 Toppled all the ivory towers that privilege had made
 Though I tried to change your mind I never tried your patience
 All I tried to do was to point out your exploitation
 But the powers that be took this to be a personal insult
 And refused to help me build my personality cult

 How did I pass my time an earth, what on earth got into me?
 I was a Maoist intellectual in the music industry

 I left the normal world behind and started living in
 hinterland between dissolution and self discipline
 I burned the midnight oil to build my way of seeing
 miner at the coal face of meaning
 The rich despised the songs I wrote which told the poor their worth
 Told the shy to speak and told the meek to take the earth
 But my downfall came from being three things the working classes hated:
 Agitated, organised and over-educated

 How did I pass my time on earth, how did I bear witness?
 As a Maoist intellectual in the entertainment business
 And how was I treated in this world and in this industry?
 As a Maoist intellectual in a business would be

 I became a hotel doorman, I stood there on the doormat
 Clutching my forgotten discs in their forgotten format
 Trying to hand them out to all the stars who sauntered in
 The ones who hadn't been like me, who hadn't lived in vain
 I gave up ideology the day I lost my looks
 I never found a publisher for my little red books
 When I died the energy released by my [bad word]  Was nearly enough for re-incarnation

 But if I could live my life again the last thing that I'd be
 Is a Maoist intellectual in the music industry
 No, if I could live my life again I think I'd like to be
 The man whose job is to stop the men who think like me
 Yeah! If l could live my life again that'd be the thing to be
 The man who plots the stumbling blocks
 In the lives of the likes of me!