Me and my friend Dan are going to get some beers And then we're going to go down to the park and drink them there We'll bust out in the sun with a guitar
So now the years are rolling by, and it?s not long since you and I could have been train drivers and astronauts. And now we?re stuck in furnished ruts
I bought my soul back from the devil And now I'm keeping it all to myself I'm checking myself out of the program Because I know what's best for my health
applause and set the theater on fire Fight every war like the drunks in the choir Put our art where our mouths are poetry of the deed Enough with words
Richard Divine made up his mind To take the last few steps to bathroom door From his bedroom floor and to lock himself in Steady young hands, meticulous
Sunday nights are slow surrender It never lasts and we'll never learn We can still make this one to remember It's Sunday night and we've time to burn
Once an honest man could go from sunrise to its set Without encountering agents of his state or government But a sorry cloud of tyranny has fallen across
I should have seen you were coming, I should have been prepared After all, getting half of what you wish for isn't so rare But still I wasn't ready, you
To the east, to the east, the road beneath my feet To the west, to the west but I haven't got there yet And to the north, to the north, never to be caught
Let's inherit the earth because no one else is taking it Come on, do your worst before the moment's passed In bedrooms across England and all the Western
Tonight is her night and the city holds its breath Caught twixt life and death As she rolls in from the suburbs The garrison flees and the city will burn
Meet me on the edges of this city Meet me where the underground runs out Bring a picnic blanket and your pity A pen and paper, so I can write things down
Moses was old, a chill in his bones Falling apart, he knew in his heart that his time had come As he lay in his tent in the hot desert sands He smiled
applause and set the theatre on fire, fight every war like the drunks in the choir, put our art where our mouths are: Poetry of the deed. So enough with
Me and my friend Dan are going to get some beers and then we're going to go down to the park and drink them there. We'll bask out in the sun, bring a
Meet me on the edges of this city, meet me where the underground runs out. Bring a picnic blanket and your pity, a pen and paper, so I can write things
Moses was old, a chill in his bones. Falling apart, he knew in his heart that his time had come. As he lay in his tent in the hot desert sands, he smiled
Tonight is her night, and the city holds is breath, caught twixt life and death, as she rolls in from the suburbs, the garrison flees and the city will
