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Future of The Left - Singing of The Bonesaws

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The music industry is lying to you

It is telling you that you are excited

And you are excited

And you are excited

Or rather you have confused excitement with the fear of missing out

Which is understandable as these two feelings are very closely related

Focusing as they do, on the heart and the groin and ending in a bloody mess, pregnancy tests and too little sleep

Our survey says that shouting inanities in a regional accent is valuable to culture

Look at Eastenders, Soccer AM or the Queen's Speech

A survey says paedophiles run the BBC but look at the alternatives

Drowning men clutching at straws through their bell-end helmets, sad women dreaming of being owned by them, their children eventual despoilers of the high streets clad head-to-toe in menstrual blood

Screaming sexual insults into bedroom mirrors with the sad belief it will empower them

And it will empower them

And it will empower them

At least that’s what it says on my cereal packet

That’s what it says on my receipt from the Apple Store

Good lord

I cannot identify the bloodied bodies of my loved ones

They were killed whilst watching a new television show on the MTV network

One where Kim Kardashian is chased through woodland by a giant bear wearing a mask which carries the visage of recently deceased film director Michael Winner

The bear has apparently not qualified for a workplace pension and is angry with Daniel Day Lewis for what he perceives to be the relative lack of action in There Will Be Blood

Which he otherwise enjoyed but found a little precious for his tastes

Anyway, after 20 minutes of panicked running around intercut with interviews with friends and other celebrities, the production team behind the show all simultaneously come to the same horrifying conclusion

They've wasted the precious gift of life which has been given to them by science. They start attacking themselves with the nearest available objects, breaking off camera tripods to ram them bloodily into each other’s eyes

Climbing up the highest branches of trees to fall face down on to the pulsing earth, the whole time shrieking and screaming with the sudden primal vigour of lost souls who have forgotten language and seem intent on shouting their black hearts from their grey, semi-erect chests



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