Proof that Roger's work from the 80's is timeless -- as relevant, incisive, and powerful today as when "Radio K.A.O.S" was first released, under a completely different world order, over two decades ago.Like the song it accompanies, this video advances at a blistering pace. In case you miss a line here or there, these are the complete lyrics to Mr. Waters' tour-de-force about social revolution...Could be Jerusalem, or it could be CairoCould be Berlin, or it could be PragueCould be Moscow, could be New YorkCould be Llanelli, and it could be WarringtonCould be Warsaw, and it could be Moose JawCould be RomeEverybody got somewhere they call homeWhen they overrun the defencesA minor invasion put down to expensesWill you go down to the airport loungeWill you accept your second class statusA nation of waitresses and waitersWill you mix their martinisWill you stand still for itOr will you take to the hillsIt could be clay and it could be sandCould be desertCould be a tract of arable landCould be a house, could be a corner shopCould be a cabin by a bend in the riverCould be something your old man handed downCould be something you built on your ownEverybody got something he calls homeWhen the cowboys and Arabs draw downOn each other at noonIn the cool dusty air of the city boardroomWill you stand by a passive spectatorOf the market dictatorsWill you discreetly withdrawWith your ear pressed to the boardroom doorWill you hear when the lion within you roarsWill you take to the hillsWill you stand, will you stand for itWill you hear, ohhhh! ohhh! when the lion within you roarsCould be your father and it could be your motherCould be your sister, could be your brotherCould be a foreigner, could be a TurkCould be someone out looking for work.Could be a king, could be the Aga KhanCould be a Vietnam vet with no arms and no legsCould be a saint, could be a sinnerCould be a loser or it could be a winnerCould be a banker, could be a bakerCould be a Laker, could be Kareem Abdul JabarCould be a male voice choirCould be a lover, could be a fighterCould be a super heavyweight, or it could besomething lighterCould be a cripple, could be a freakCould be a wop, gook, geekCould be a cop, could be a thiefCould be a family of ten living in one room on reliefCould be our leaders in their concrete tombsWith their tinned food and their silver spoonsCould be the pilot with God on his sideCould be the kid in the middle of the bomb sightCould be a fanatic, could be a terroristCould be a dentist, could be a psychiatristCould be humble, could be proudCould be a face in the crowdCould be the soldier in the white cravatWho turns the key in spite of the factThat this is the end of the cat and mouseWho dwelt in the houseWhere the laughter rang and the tears were spiltThe house that Jack builtWhere the laughter rang and the tears were spiltThe house that Jack builtBang, bang, shoot, shootWhite gloved thumb, Lord thy will be doneHe was always a good boy his mother saidHe'll do his duty when he's grown, yeahEverybody's got someone they call home