From the recording The Fruitful Fells
Jez - Voice/Guitar/Harmonicas
Nye Parsons - Double-bass
Recorded by Mike West at Ninth Ward Pickin Parlor
Mastered by Nick Watson at Fluid Mastering
Lyrics
Black Mirror’s got you
It’s got you right by your glazed over eyes
I know you think I mean somebody else but if you look at yourself
You might be surprised
Black Mirror’s got you
By the fingers and the brain
If your great-grandmother watched you for an evening
Heard the stories you’re believing
She’d think you’re insane
She’d see you walking around with your head down
You don’t even know the way around your own hometown
If you misplace it for a minute
Have you seen the way you fidget?
Just like Gollum after losing his ring
Black Mirror’s got you
And where exactly have your manners gone
You interrupt a good conversation at the whim of a vibration
D’you forget about your answer-phone?
Black Mirror’s got you
Its merest bleep gives you a visible rush
It know exactly where you’ve been
And the things that it’s seen
Would make the pope blush
She’d see you out in public
Eyes down, hands tied
You don’t even give a nod to those you’re sitting beside
In this age of isolation
Total digital segregation
Connecting people seems to divide
Black Mirror’s got you
It’s got you right by the mugshot
Every selfie that you snap
With that cool new app
Is being rented out from profit by a robot
Black Mirror’s got you
It’s got you right by your diminishing attention span
Hooked on endorphin anaesthesia
Like a goldfish with amnesia
Posting pictures of your breakfast on your instagram
When you’re scrolling for distraction through your timeline
It seems that all your friends are having a better time
But when you jude your darkest nights by deftly edited highlights
Comparisons are rarely benign
Black Mirror’s got you
It’s got you right by the scruff of your neck
It’s directing your perspective
Imperceptibly affecting your opinions
What did you expect?
Black Mirror’s got you
Whether you like it or not
Transfixed by what you read
On your own twitter feed
You’ve ended up with a despot
It doesn’t matter what shape, brand or size
We’re all lapping up our own bespoke cocktail of lies
Mr Orwell tried to warn us
But the the apps, the maps, the porn have got us
Lining up to buy ourselves
Big Brother’s eyes
Black Mirror’s got you
It’s got you right by the data-stream
It sells behavioural predictions
And iris recognition
It’s a totalitarian dream
Black Mirror’s got you
It’s got you right by the small-print
With language so hard to grip
But just so easy to skip
That we unquestioningly give our “consent”
Do you never get the feeling that we’re all being groomed
Are you really the consumer or just being consumed
In this dilatory stage
Of the Chicken Bone Age
The product they’re trading is you.
©Jez Hellard 2021