Benny is a Welsh coal miner. He is a radio ham.
He is 23 years old, married to Molly. They have a son, young Ben, aged 4, and a
new baby. They look after Benny's twin brother Billy, who is apparently
a vegetable. The mine is closed by the market forces. The Male Voice Choir
stops singing, the village is dying.
One night Benny takes Billy on a pub crawl. Drunk in a brightly-lit shopping mall, Benny vents his anger on a
shop window full of the multiple TV images of Margaret Thatcher's mocking
condescension. In defiance, he steals a cordless 'phone. Later that night, Benny
cavorts dangerously on the parapet of a motorway footbridge, in theatrical
protest at the tabloid press. That same night, a cab driver is killed by a concrete
block dropped off a similar bridge. The police come to question Benny; he hides the
cordless 'phone under the cushion of Billy's wheelchair.
Billy is different, he can receive radio waves directly without the aid of a tuner; he explores
the cordless 'phone, recognizing its radioness.
Benny is sent to prison. Billy feels as if half of him has been cut off. He misses Benny's nightly conversations with
radio hams in foreign parts. Molly, unable to cope, sends Billy to stay with his
Great Uncle David, who had emigrated to the USA during the war. Much as Billy
likes Uncle David and the sunshine and all the new radio in LA, he cannot
adjust to the cultural upheaval and the loss of Benny, who for him is
'home'.
Uncle David, now an old man, is haunted by having worked on the
Manhattan project during World War II, designing the Atom Bomb, and seeks to
atone. He also is a radio ham; he often talks to other hams about the Black Hills
of his youth, the Male Voice Choir, about home. He is saddened by the use
of telecommunication to trivialise important issues, the soap opera of state.
However, Live Aid has decynicised him to an extent. Billy listens to David and
hears the truth the old man speaks.
Billy experiments with his cordless
'phone, he learns to make calls. He accesses computers and speech synthesizers,
he learns to speak.
Billy makes contact with Jim a DJ at Radio KAOS, a renegade
rock station fighting a lone rear guard action against format radio. Billy and Jim
become radio friends, Reagan and Thatcher bomb Lybia. Billy perceives this as
an act of political "entertainment" fireworks to focus attention away from
problems at "home".
Billy has developed his expertise with the cordless
'phone to the point where he can now control the most powerful computers in
the world. He plans an "entertainment" of his own. He simulates nuclear
attack everywhere, but de-activates the military capability of "the powers that
be" to retaliate.
In extremes perceptions change. Panic, comedy, compassion. In
a SAC bunker a soldier in a white cravat turns a key to launch the counter
attack. Nothing happens; impotently he kicks the console, hurting his foot.
He watches the approaching blips on the radar screen. As impact approaches, he
thinks of his wife and kids, he puts his fingers in his ears.
Silence.
White out. Black out. Lights out. It didn't happen, we're still alive. Billy has drained
the earth of power to create his illusion.
All over the dark side of the earth,
candles are lit. In the pub in Billy's home village in Wales one man starts to
sing; the other men join in. The tide is turning.
Billy is home.
Jim: This is K.A.O.S. You and I are listening to KAOS
in Los Angeles.
Let's go to the telephones now and take a request.
Billy: Hello, I'm
Billy.
Jim: Yes?
Billy: I hear radio waves in my head.
Jim:
You hear radio waves in your head? Ah! Is there a request that you have tonight for
KAOS?
Radio Waves
Radio waves. Radio
waves.
He hears radio waves. Radio waves.
The atmosphere is thin and
cold
The yellow sun is getting old
The ozone overflows with radio
waves
AM, FM, weather and news
Our leaders had a frank exchange of
views
Are you confused, radio waves.
Radio waves, radio
waves
AM radio waves, FM radio waves
Radio waves, mind-numbing
radio waves
Fish-stunning radio waves
Radio waves.
Magic
Billy in his wheel chair
Is picking up all this stuff in the air
Billy is face to
face with outer space
Messages from distant stars
The local police calling
all cars, radio waves
Hear them radio waves, radio waves
Jesus saves
radio, radio waves
Radio waves, AM radio waves, FM radio waves
All
them radio waves
Radio waves, radio waves, he hears radio
waves
Radio waves, radio waves, hopeful radio waves,
dopeful radio
waves
Radio waves, Russian radio waves, Prussian radio
waves
Eastern radio waves, Western radio waves
Testing radio waves, one,
two. One, two.
Radio waves. Getting through to you
More code radio
waves, Tobacco road radio waves
South to Paloma radio waves,
Oklahoma City
radio waves
Sitting pretty radio waves, nitty-gritty radio waves
Radio waves
Jim: Alright, that's a song called Radio
Waves. You are listening to KAOS in Los Angeles and we've
got Billy on the
line.
Billy: I'm from the valleys.
Jim: You're from the valley?
Billy: No, Jim you schmuck, the Valleys; male voice choirs, Wales.
Jim: Ah,
you're from Wales! Now is this sperm or blue-tip?
Billy: Ha, ha, ha, ha. Very
funny Jim.
Jim: Sorry.
Billy: Me and Benny went out.
Jim:
Who's Benny?
Who Needs Information
Me
and Benny went out last night
Looking for fun
Supping ale in the
moonlight
Waiting for the dawn to come
Benny pointed at a HiFi
shop
He said hey man look at all the stuff they've got
How'd you make a
have out of a have not
Hmmmm.
Who needs information
When
you're working underground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a
million pounds
Benny climbed up on a footbridge
And he teetered
on the parapet
He said can you see the whites of their headlights
Are
they coming yet
Who needs information
This high off the
ground
Just give me confirmation
We could win a million
pounds
Who needs information
When you're living in constant
fear
Just give me confirmation
There's some way out of here
Some
way out of here
Benny hefted a breeze block
And tried to let
go
Got hung up on a tear drop
So me and Benny went
home
Who needs information
When you're living in constant
fear
Just give me confirmation
There's some way out of here
Some
way out of here
Who needs information yeah
When you're living on
borrowed time
Just give me confirmation
There will be a winner this
time
Who needs information when you're working underground
Just
give me confirmation
We could win a million pounds
Who needs, who
needs, who needs information
This high off the ground
Just give me
confirmation
We could win a million pounds - yeah
Jim: Um.
Jim lights a cigarette.
Jim: So
your brother's in jail?
Me Or Him
You wake
up in the morning, get something for the pot
Wonder why the sun makes the
rocks feel hot
Draw on the walls, eat, get laid
Back in the good old
days
Then some damn fool invents the wheel
Listen to the
whitewalls squeal
You spend all day looking for a parking spot
Nothing for
the heart; nothing for the pot
Benny turned the dial on his Short Wave
radio
Oh how he wanted to talk to the people,
he wanted his own
show
Tune in Moscow. Tune in New York
Listen to the Welsh kid
talk
Communicating like in the good old days
Forgive me father for I
have sinned
It was either me or him
And a voice said Benny
You
fucked the whole thing up
Benny your time is up
Your time is
up
Benny turned the dial on his Short Wave radio
He wanted to talk
to the people
He wanted his own show
Tune in Moscow. Tune in New
York
Listen to the Welsh kid talk communicating
Like in the good old
days
Forgive me Father
Welsh Policeman: Mobile One Two to Central.
For I have sinned
Welsh Policeman: We have a
multiple on the A465 between Cwmbran and Cylgoch.
Father it was either me or him.
Father can we turn back the clock?
Welsh Policeman: Ambulance, over.
I never meant to drop the concrete
block.
Welsh Policeman: Roger central, over and out.
Benny turned the dial on his Short Wave radio,
He wanted to talk to
the people,
He wanted his own show,
Tune in Moscow, Tune in New
York
Listen to the Welsh kid talk
Just like in the good old days
The
good old days
Radio announcer: Do you really think Iranian terrorists
would have taken Americans hostage if
Ronald Reagan were president?
Do you really think the Russians would have invaded Afghanistan if Ronald Reagan were president?
Do you really think third-rate military dictators would laugh
at America and burn our flag in contempt if Ronald Reagan were president?
Concerned Citizen: Well, it might work!
Hostage: We as a group do most importantly want to beseech President Reagan and our fellow Americans to refrain from any form of military or violent means as an attempt, no matter how noble or heroic, to secure our freedom.
Concerned Citizen: Sure! Only it's going to be mighty dangerous for you, Cassidy
Hoppy's faithful sidekick: guess you don't know Hopalong Cassidy,
Mister. Adventure's his bread, excitement's his butter and danger, why to him that's like strawberry jam to top it off.
Jim: This is some live rock and roll at KAOS, where rock and roll comes out of chaos and a song called "The Powers that Be"...
The Powers That Be
The
powers that be
They like a tough game
No rules
Some you win, some
you lose
Competition's good for you
They're dying to be free
They're
the powers that be
They like a bomb proof cadillac
Air conditioned, gold
taps,
Back seat gun rack, platinum hub caps
They pick horses for
courses
They're the market forces
Nice car Jack
They like order,
make-up, lime light power
Game shows, rodeos, star wars, TV
They're the
powers that be
If you see them come,
You better run - run
You better
run on home
Sisters of mercy better join your brothers
Put a stop to
the soap opera right now
They say the toothless get ruthless
You better run
on home
You better run - run
You better run on
home
The powers that be
They like treats, tricks, carrots and
sticks
They like fear and loathing, they like sheep's clothing
And
blacked-out vans
Blacked-out vans, contingency plans
They like
death or glory, they love a good story
They love a good story
Sisters
of mercy better join with your brothers
Put a stop to the soap opera
state
They say the toothless get ruthless
Run home before its too
late
You better run - run
You better run on home
Billy: Goodnight, Jim.
Jim: Goodnight, Billy.
Uncle David's Great Dane:
Woof, woof, woof!
The canyon - daytime. Billy plays with Great Uncle
David's Great Dane.
Paraquat Kelly: Bull heads, three red snapper, one
pink snapper and your Pacific coastal trench hosemonster fish.
Cynthia Fox: Ohhh! At Sky David's juke joint of joy reports, forty under the console giggle stick ling cod, twenty-three purple perches four sledgehammerhead sharks, and what a surprise, eightyfour crabs, and no red snappers.
Paraquat Kelly: Hey, and that'll do for the triumphant return of the fish report with a beat.
Jim: We think of it as mainstreet, but to the rest of the country
it's Sunset Strip. You're listening to KAOS in Los Angeles.
Sunset Strip
I like staying with my Uncle Dave
And I like
playing with his great dane
But I don't fit
I feel alien and strange Kinda
outa range
I like riding in my Uncle's car
Down to the beach where
the pretty girls all parade
And movie stars and paparazzi play
The
Charles Atlas kicking sand in the face game
And I sit in the canyon with
my back to the sea
There's a blood red dragon on a field of green
Calling
me back
Back to the Black Hills again
Ooh, ooh, Billy come
home
Billy is searching for his native land
Flicking through the
stations with the dial in his head
Picking up ------------- and
A male
voice choir on the short wave band
Billy taps out Jim's number on the
'phone
Sits shaking as he waits for Jim's answering tone
Come on my
friend, speak to me please
The land of my fathers is calling to me
And I sit
in the canyon with my back to the sea
There's a blood red dragon on a field of
green
Calling me back, back to the Black Hills again
Ooh, ooh, Billy come
home
Come on home
He sits in the canyon with his back to the
sea
Sees a blood red dragon on a field of green
He hears a male voice choir
singing Billy come home
Billy, Billy, come home
Come on
home
Californian Weirdo: I don't like fish, marine fish.
Jim: You are listening to KAOS here in Los Angeles.
Californian Weirdo: I don't like fish.
Jim: Yes, we've established that. Ah! Do you have a request?
Californian Weirdo: Shell fish, guppy, salmon, shrimp and crab and lobster, flounder. I hate fish, but I think most of all I hate fresh fish, like trout. I hate fresh trout. My least-hated, favourite fish would be sole.
That way you don't have to see the eyes.
Sole has no eyes.
Jim: Oh no!
I'd like to be home with my monkey and my dog.
Jim: Thank you.
I'd like to be home with my monkey and my dog.
I'd like to be home with my monkey and my dog.
I'd like to be home with my monkey ...
Jim: They don't care. Shut up. Play the record.
Home
Jim: Oh, God!
Californian Weirdo: Sole has no
eyes.
Could be Jerusalem, or it could be Cairo
Could be Berlin, or it
could be Prague
Could be Moscow, could be New York
Could be Llanelli, and it could be Warrington
Could be Warsaw, and it could be Moose
Jaw
Could be Rome
Everybody got somewhere they call home
When
they overrun the defences
A minor invasion put down to expenses
Will you go down to the airport lounge
Will you accept your second class status
A nation of waitresses and waiters
Will you mix their martinis
Will you stand still for it
Or will you take to the hills
It could be clay and it could be
sand
Could be desert
Could be a tract of arable land
Could be a
house, could be a corner shop
Could be a cabin by a bend in the
river
Could be something your old man handed down
Could be something
you built on your own
Everybody got something he calls home
When
the cowboys and Arabs draw down
On each other at noon
In the cool
dusty air of the city boardroom
Will you stand by a passive spectator
Of
the market dictators
Will you discreetly withdraw
With your ear pressed
to the boardroom door
Will you hear when the lion within you roars
Will
you take to the hills
Will you stand, will you stand for it
Will you
hear, ohhhh! ohhh! when the lion within
you roars
Could be your father
and it could be your mother
Could be your sister, could be your
brother
Could be a foreigner, could be a Turk
Could be a cyclist out
looking for work. Norman
Could be a king, could be the Aga Khan
Could
be a Vietnam vet with no arms and no legs
Could be a saint, could be a sinner
Could be a loser or it could be a winner
Could be a banker, could be a
baker
Could be a Laker, could be Kareem Abdul Jabar
Could be a male
voice choir
Could be a lover, could be a fighter
Could be a super
heavyweight, or it could be
something lighter
Could be a cripple, could be
a freak
Could be a wop, gook, geek
Could be a cop, could be a
thief
Could be a family of ten living in one room on relief
Could be our
leaders in their concrete tombs
With their tinned food and their silver
spoons
Could be the pilot with God on his side
Could be the kid in the
middle of the bomb sight
Could be a fanatic, could be a terrorist
Could be
a dentist, could be a psychiatrist
Could be humble, could be proud
Could
be a face in the crowd
Could be the soldier in the white cravat
Who turns
the key in spite of the fact
That this is the end of the cat and mouse
Who
dwelt in the house
Where the laughter rang and the tears were spilt
The
house that Jack built
Where the laughter rang and the tears were spilt
The
house that Jack built
Bang, bang, shoot, shoot
White gloved thumb, Lord
thy will be done
He was always a good boy his mother said
He'll do his
duty when he's grown, yeah
Everybody got someone they call
home
Four Minutes
Billy: Four minutes and counting.
Jim: O.K.
Billy: They pressed the button, Jim.
Jim: They pressed the button Billy, what button?
Billy: The big red one.
Jim: You mean the button?
Billy: Goodbye, Jim.
Jim: Goodbye! Oh yes. This ain't aurevoir, it's goodbye! Ha! Ha!
Jim: This is KAOS. It's a beautiful, balmy, Southern California summer day. It's 80 degrees ... I said balmy ... I could say bomby ... Ha! Ha! ...O.K. I'm Jim and this is Radio KAOS and with only four minutes left to us, let's use this as wisely as possible.
Molly: Everybody got someone they call home.
Jim: Out at Dodger Stadium.
It's the bottom of the seventh, the Dodgers are leading three to nothing over the Giants, and for those of you who are looking to go surfing tomorrow, too bad.
'Phone rings.
Jim: I'm kinda lost in here to tell you the truth ... O.K. good. Ladies and gentlemen, if the reports that we
are getting are correct, this could be it. Billy, if you're listening to me, please call now.
After a near miss on the plane
You swear you'll never fly
again
After the first kiss when you make up
You swear you'll never break
up again
And when you've just run a red light
Sit shaking under the street
light
You swear to yourself you'll never drink and drive again
Sometimes I
feel like going home
You swear you'll never let things go by
again.
Sometimes I miss the rain and snow
And you'll never toe the party
line again
And when the east wind blows
Sometimes I feel like going
home
Jim: Billy, if you are listening, please call.
Californian Weirdo: Sole has no eyes.
Molly: Goodbye little spy in the sky.
They say that cameras don't lie.
Am I happy, am I sad, am I good, am I bad?
Jim: Billy, if you're listening, please call.
Californian Weirdo: Sole has no eyes, sole has no eyes
Billy: Ten, nine, eight, seven
Margaret Thatcher: Our own independent nuclear deterrent has helped to keep the peace.
Billy: Six, five four, three,
Ordinary Person: ...you've go a job...
Billy: Two, one,
Margaret Thatcher: For nearly forty years
Jim: Goodbye Billy.
The Tide Is Turning (After Live Aid)
I used to think the world was flat
Rarely threw my hat into the
crowd
I felt I had used up my quota of yearning
Used to look in on the
children at night
In the glow of their Donald Duck light
And frighten
myself with the thought of my little ones burning
But oh, oh, oh, the tide is
turning
The tide is turning
Satellite buzzing through the endless
night
Exclusive to moonshots and world title fights
Jesus Christ imagine
what it must be earning
Who is the strongest, who is the best
Who holds
the aces, the East or the West
This is the crap our children are learning
But oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning
Oh, oh, oh, the
tide is turning
Now the satellite's confused
'Cos on Saturday night
The airwaves were full of compassion and light
And his silicon heart
warmed
To the sight of a billion candles burning
Oo, oo, oo, the tide is
turning
Oo, oo, oo, the tide is turning
The tide is turning Billy
I'm not saying that the battle is won
But on Saturday night all those
kids in the sun
Wrested technology's sword from the hand of the
War Lords
Oh, oh, oh, the tide is turning
The tide is turning Sylvester
The tide is turning.
"That's it!"
Morse Code:
Now the past is over but you are not alone
Together we'll fight Sylvester Stallone
We will not be dragged down in his South China Sea of macho bullshit and mediocrity"
NON-ALBUM TRACKS:
Going To Live In L.A.
Molly stood still in the rain and wept
While Billy kicked stones down the courthouse step
The police linked arms in a line to hold back the crowd
"How much longer, Mum" said Ben
"Why's that policeman kicking that man
Can we have a bit of jam on our bread today"
Then the whistle blew and the gates swung back
"Wave" said Molly, Ben waved his cap
The two eyes looking through a little slot
Like someone dying in a letter box
Crowd: Traitor, animal
And Molly said
"Say goodbye to the valley
Say goodbye to the rain"
Through the miracle of telecommunications
In the private sector
We got a message today
Your Great Uncle David, your great Uncle David
The one who went to the U.S.A.
The one with swimming pools and palm trees
The big dog, the big dog
Has asked you to stay, to stay
And you're going, going, going, going
To live in LA
Going, going, going
Oh, Hollywood hills
Oh, midnight thrills
Living inside a scope
Oh, oh, Billy, don't drink the water
Stay away from the cocaine slaughter
Oh, Billy, don't get cold, you're asking for it
And I'm going into him
Billy, Billy, yeah
Oh, oh, Billy, be cool, don't drink the water
Oh, oh, Billy, stay away from the bosses daughter
And there's a hundred miles of sushi halls
Past those convertible cars
And I'm gonna Harlem drag
Who one day locks himself in safe at night just to stay alive
Nothing's going on
Get Back To Radio
Like an ember
Glowing in the dark
I have almost grown cold
Frozen like a soldier
Standing by the flag-pole
Like a player they all said was too old
I have been tempted
To hand in my key
But I am not alone
I feel you are with me
I will not be a packet of crap on MTV
I am a man
I will not be a number
Get back to radio
Get back to radio
Now I am a flame
I will be a fire again
Carolyna, give me your hand
Like a volcano
Get ready to blow
The whole generation waits by its radio
God bless Bob Geldof
Get back to radio
Get back to radio
Get back
Molly's Song
Jim: O.K. let's get back to Billy. Billy. You're Billy.
Billy: I'm sorry, Jim. I was miles away keeping an eye on Molly.
Jim: You were keeping an eye on Molly. I thought Molly lived in Wales.
Billy: [???] enhanced surveillance satellite. I can read a book from five hundred miles high, Jim.
Jim: Let me get this clear. You're trying to tell me that you can keep an eye on Molly
by hacking into a government's satellite... Come on.
Hold tight
Baby feel the starlight
There is a glow in the sky tonight
Moving...
could be a sattelite
Is it friendly
Then, will it bring me closer to thee
Heart to heart
Or will it keep us apart
Baby...
Benny, Benny, Benny
When are you coming home
'Cos I need you babe
And I want you babe
Right how
Right here
Benny, Benny, Benny
Since you've been gone
I've been so lonely
And I am missing you, Benny
And I know you are too...
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Benny, Benny, Benny
When are you coming home
I can't go on without you baby
And I am missing you so much
Benny
Baby
Goodbey little spy in the sky
They say that cameras don't lie
Am I happy
Am I sad
Am I good
Am I bad
Oh Benny
Benny, when are you coming home
'cos I miss you....
All titles © Roger Waters Music Ltd./
Pink Floyd Music Publishers Ltd.
+ 4/02/01