| There are buried worlds within us
|
| Rainy nights as black as Guinness
|
| Apparitions lodged like splinters
|
| So with thoughts all smudged and beery
|
| Make my way down to Dún Laoghaire
|
| Peek through windows fogged and teary
|
| From the warmth inside
|
| And if you can’t learn to love it
|
| 'Fraid you’re gonna have to shove it
|
| Stacked too high to rise above it
|
| So we’re kicking o’er the traces
|
| With two fingers to their faces
|
| And proceeding on the basis
|
| Of inalienable right
|
| And ain’t it obvious
|
| By now
|
| There ain’t no me and you
|
| Never was
|
| Don’t have to be a genius
|
| To work it out
|
| We’re all effect without a cause
|
| Watching Oz the great magician
|
| Eyes shut in the brace position
|
| Changed beyond all recognition
|
| And the radius of our footsteps
|
| Spans a world of shattered concepts
|
| Abandoned buildings loom like shipwrecks
|
| In the ebbing tide
|
| And ain’t it obvious
|
| By now
|
| There ain’t no me and you
|
| Never was
|
| Don’t have to be a genius
|
| To work it out
|
| We’re all effect without a cause
|
| Is it some ridiculous misplaced
|
| Sense of pride
|
| That keeps me hauling
|
| On the line
|
| Gonna step right out of this
|
| I just can’t abide…
|
| If I had a pound for
|
| Every time |