If you’ve ever sat in the dark with a pair of high-end headphones and let the swirling, aggressive bassline of Pink Floyd's Animals wash over you, you know the feeling. It’s uncomfortable. It’s meant to be. When we talk about Pigs (Three Different Ones) lyrics, we aren't just talking about a song; we’re dissecting a 11-minute sociological takedown that somehow feels more relevant in 2026 than it did in 1977.
Roger Waters was angry. Really angry.
The mid-70s in Britain were a mess. Strikes, inflation, and a sense of impending societal collapse fueled the fire for what would become the Animals album. Loosely based on George Orwell’s Animal Farm, the record categorizes humanity into three depressing groups: the mindless sheep, the predatory dogs, and the tyrannical, hypocritical pigs. While "Dogs" is a sprawling epic about corporate greed, it's the Pigs (Three Different Ones) lyrics that offer the most surgical, personal, and biting critique of power dynamics.
The Business Pig: Big Man, Pig Man
The first verse introduces us to the "Big man, pig man / Ha, ha, charade you are."
This isn't a specific person, usually. It’s a type. It's the "well-heeled big wheel" who thinks they’ve found the "joke." Waters is targeting the wealthy elite who manipulate the system from the comfort of their boardrooms. The lyrics describe someone who is "radiating cold shafts of broken glass," a terrifyingly vivid image of someone who has lost their humanity in the pursuit of status.
It’s interesting. Most people assume these songs are just general anti-establishment anthems, but the venom in the delivery suggests something deeper. Waters uses the word "charade" repeatedly. Why? Because the power these people hold is built on a facade. They pretend to be leaders, but they’re just scavengers with better tailors.
You can hear the disgust in the way the "ha, ha" is delivered. It’s not a laugh. It’s a sneer.
The Social Climber: Bus Stop Rat Bag
Moving into the second verse, the target shifts. This is the "bus stop rat bag."
💡 You might also like: Why Jamiroquai A Funk Odyssey Still Hits Different Decades Later
Wait, what?
Historically, this verse has been interpreted as a shot at the middle-class strivers or those who are "fucked up old hags" (Waters’ words, not mine). It’s about people who are desperate to climb the social ladder, even if it means stepping on everyone else. "You like the feel of steel," the lyrics claim. This is a reference to the cold, hard nature of ambition.
There's a specific line here: "You're nearly a laugh / You're nearly a laugh / But you're really a cry." Honestly, that might be one of the most brutal lines in rock history. It suggests that these people are so pathetic in their pursuit of importance that they transcend being a joke and become a tragedy.
In the 2010s and 2020s, Waters frequently updated the visuals for this song during his live tours. While the original Pigs (Three Different Ones) lyrics remained the same, the imagery on the screens often pointed toward specific political figures—most notably Donald Trump. It turned a 1970s critique into a modern political weapon. But the lyrics themselves? They’re timeless because the "bus stop rat bag" exists in every generation. They’re the people who pretend to care about the community while secretly looking for any way to exploit it.
The Moral Crusader: Mary Whitehouse
Now we get to the third verse. This is the only part of the song that had a very specific, named target at the time of its release.
"Hey you, Whitehouse / Ha, ha, charade you are."
For years, American listeners often thought Roger was talking about the U.S. President's residence. Nope. He was talking about Mary Whitehouse.
📖 Related: Armsby in 12 Years a Slave: What Most People Get Wrong About the Betrayal
Whitehouse was a British social activist who led a crusade against "permissiveness" and "filth" on television and radio. She was the head of the National Viewers' and Listeners' Association. To Waters, she represented the ultimate pig: the moralizing hypocrite who tries to control the thoughts and behaviors of others under the guise of "protection."
The lyrics "You're trying to keep our feelings off the street" refer directly to her attempts at censorship. Waters saw her as a dangerous figure because she wanted to sanitize reality. He calls her a "house proud town mouse," mocking her suburban sensibilities.
It’s a fascinating conflict. You have a rock star who is arguably one of the most controlling creative forces in music history railing against a woman who wants to control what people see on the BBC. Pot, meet kettle? Maybe. But Waters’ point was about the institutional power to silence voices.
The Music as a Narrative Tool
You can't separate the Pigs (Three Different Ones) lyrics from the actual sound of the song. David Gilmour’s use of a "talk box" on his guitar is crucial here.
The talk box makes the guitar literally "oink."
It sounds silly on paper. In practice, it’s haunting. It gives the instrument a grotesque, human-animal hybrid voice that mirrors the themes of the lyrics. The bass, played by Waters (though there's long-standing debate about who played what on Animals, Gilmour actually played the fretless bass on several tracks), provides a menacing, driving force that never lets up.
The song doesn't have a traditional chorus. It’s a relentless march. By the time you get to the final guitar solo, which is one of Gilmour’s most underrated and aggressive pieces of work, the tension is almost unbearable. It’s the sound of the "pigs" winning, or perhaps the sound of the world burning down around them.
Why Does This Song Still Rank?
Search volume for Pigs (Three Different Ones) lyrics spikes every time there’s a major political shift or a Pink Floyd anniversary. Why? Because the archetypes haven't changed.
- The Greedy Autocrat: Still here.
- The Ruthless Social Climber: Definitely still here (look at LinkedIn).
- The Moral Gatekeeper: More present than ever in the age of digital censorship and "cancel culture" from all sides of the aisle.
When Waters wrote these lyrics, he was reacting to a post-war Britain that felt like it was losing its soul. Today, people listen to it and see their own local "pigs" in the lines. The song provides a cathartic outlet for the feeling that the people in charge are, quite literally, animals.
Common Misconceptions About the Lyrics
A lot of people get the order of the "pigs" wrong, or they assume the whole song is about the government. It’s not. It’s about power in different forms—economic, social, and moral.
Another mistake: thinking the song is purely nihilistic. While the Animals album is incredibly dark, the "Pigs on the Wing" bookends (Part 1 and Part 2) suggest that the only way to survive the dogs, pigs, and sheep is through human connection and love. "You know that I care what happens to you / And I know that you care for me too."
Without those bookends, "Pigs (Three Different Ones)" is just a scream into the void. With them, it’s a warning.
Taking Action: How to Listen Now
If you want to truly appreciate the depth of the Pigs (Three Different Ones) lyrics, don't just read them on a screen.
🔗 Read more: Recent Kanye West Songs: Why Everything Changed in 2026
- Listen to the 2018 Remix: Released a few years ago, the James Guthrie remix cleans up the mud of the original 1977 production. You can hear the grit in Waters’ voice and the specific texture of the talk box much more clearly.
- Compare with "Animal Farm": Read Orwell's novella again. Notice how Waters deviates. Orwell's pigs become humans; Waters' pigs remain pigs, just wearing expensive suits.
- Watch Live Versions: Check out the Us + Them concert film. The scale of the production—specifically the giant floating pig and the LED screens—brings the lyrical themes into the modern era with terrifying clarity.
Understanding these lyrics requires looking past the 1970s context. It requires looking at who is currently "radiating cold shafts of broken glass" in your own world. The song isn't just a piece of classic rock history; it’s a manual for spotting the charades that define modern life. Pay attention to the "ha, ha." It's usually the sound of someone trying to sell you a lie.