| Up at the windows
|
| Of unseen wards
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| Traffic control behind
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| Mind control ahead
|
| Some people take my breath away
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| Some people leave me cold
|
| Neon lights go on
|
| We’re all cruising along
|
| The belts and the buckles, the scars on our knuckles
|
| The tears and the battles that strengthen our shackles
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| The friends and the traitors, the solemn tailgaters
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| The tired fell-runners who train through the summer
|
| You hit and you hope
|
| Along desire lines
|
| You hit and you hope
|
| This is your last chance
|
| The sea-bed monsters who wander amongst us
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| The anxious note-writers, night-frighters, nail-biters
|
| If they lay down more speed ramps we’ll take to the seas
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| If they put up more barbed wire we’ll just learn to fly
|
| If they cut down more trees we’ll go underground
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| If they snuff out more lives, oh Lord, I don’t know where to run
|
| The terrain is looking rough
|
| And littered with trash
|
| While you’re upstairs sleeping it off
|
| She’s being turned over by a long-distance lover
|
| The cotton-eyed snipers, the jail-bait juicers
|
| The princes of thieves and the nurses of bruises |
| The warts on our fingers, the throats of our singers
|
| The mystery jets and the truth that they bring us
|
| The smiles of the cynics, the self-absorbed mimics
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| The rest of the people who don’t know their limits
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| The boots and the laces, the hooks in our faces
|
| The best of the fighters, the worst of the useless |