DESCRIPTION:
Performed in the small tent at the Big Green Gathering in July 2000 to a highly enthustastic crowd, Theo's 1993 song about our geneticaly engineered future:

Say goodbye to birds and bees.
Here comes the thing you can't conceive.
Down in the lab on Christmas morn,
Unto us a test tube child is born.
It is immaculately conceived.
It must be seen to be believed.
The kind of breakthrough you'd expect
From the wisemen down at Bio-tech.

Goodbye fairy, cripple and yid.
Get a clone of your own designer kid.
Kids no doting mother ever had, created by Selecta Dad.

We're the market leaders in the race
To privatize the human face.
We've cracked the code of the chromosome
With a logo guaranteed on every bone.

Goodbye guesswork Fanny or Dick,
Bio-tech select the sex you pick.
Mix and match for color and size,
For the ears of a Prince or Einstein's eyes.
And if you've gotta gene the future needs
Selecta Dad will bank your seed.
And if you've gotta gene that didn't oughta be
There's a free vasec' or hysterectomy.

Goodbye curse of bloody motherhood
Those labor pains are gone for good.
There's no danger, there's no fuss
With a new designer uterus.
Designer girls don't reproduce,
They're just for recreational use.
Selected for servility
With a lifetime money-back guarantee.

Goodbye pain and bothersome bugs,
Hello to a body with built-in drugs.
Hybrid flesh that will never go bad,
Created by Selecta Dad.
Selecta Dad comes to you from
The fathers of the atom bomb,
Chernobyl, genocide, asbestos and thalidomide.

Oh, goodbye world gone horribly wrong,
The march of progress marches on,
Delivering strength, delivering joy,
In a blond and blue-eyed bargain boy.
And if that infant later on says:
"Foster daddy, where did I come from?"
Say:
"A womb in a room in a white walled lab,
The brain-child of Selecta Dad."

Goodbye conscience, chicken and cow,
Getta burger without cruelty now.
Beefsteak culture growing on a shelf,
The meat that'll cook and eat itself.
On the wings of a new designer dove,
A factory forest and so much more.
You've no idea what shit's in store.

Goodbye ancient mystery,
The call of the wild is history.
We'll weed out indigenous sperm
With the aid of a smart designer germ.
Select the hot-shots that we need,
For a cleaner, leaner, meaner breed.
A gene elite in a righteous war
To waste whatever was on Earth before.

Goodbye evolutionary tree,
We have beavered away in secrecy,
Labored and brought forth a Son,
The Immortal, Polymerised One,
With perfect skin, perfect skill,
To do His Father's perfect will
On a world forever in His control.
A playground for Selected Souls.

Goodbye gullible homo sapiens,
You believed your deceivers were your friends.
Trusted us to change your lot
'Till you'd lost the only lot you'd got.
Selecta Dad would like to thank
The cream of the cream in the donor bank.

And on your mother's grave we swear:

"Though we have left you in the lurch
We shall not cease from our research
'Till we can resurrect the toss
Of the Fuehrer whose idea it was...."

Videographer's apology: The central pole holding up the tent was convenient for Theo to tape up the band's playlist, but was difficult to work around visually. Richard is mostly hidden on the other side of the pole. He's more visible on other tapes of mine and features in his WTO song.

Seize the Day is a UK Band. More information on current gigs and their recent music can be found at:

www.seizetheday.org.