| Lay
|
| Lay
|
| Lay
|
| Armageddon
|
| This beautiful tree
|
| Boo hoo
|
| Give up living
|
| Ample
|
| Eye
|
| They give in On The Buses, up the stair
|
| By the television
|
| Pretend to learn
|
| Where’s the lay of the land
|
| My son
|
| Where’s the lay of the land
|
| My son
|
| What’s the lie of the land
|
| My son
|
| The last Briton on the street
|
| He’s in a radio fuzz
|
| He’s dead and beat
|
| No longer reflects our daft fate
|
| We’ll leave this city
|
| Hit a quick coach, take the town in Surrey
|
| There’s no-one here but crooks and death
|
| Kerb-crawlers, of the worst order
|
| Where’s the lay of the land
|
| My son
|
| What’s the lie of the land
|
| My son
|
| Eldritch house
|
| With green moss
|
| Sound of ordinary on the waves
|
| Tiles drip from its roof
|
| Home secretary has a weird look
|
| Where’s the lay of the land
|
| My son
|
| What’s the lie of the land
|
| My son
|
| The good Book of John
|
| Surrounds the son
|
| Sound of ordinary on the waves
|
| Italic scribble on horizon
|
| When the height of culture is a bad stew
|
| Space bores, government disorder
|
| Indian clerk, low-calorie drink
|
| Where’s the lay of the land
|
| Where children circle in cycles
|
| Giving jokes ad lib
|
| By bearded writers
|
| Who defected to Higher realms
|
| Advertising realms
|
| Where’s the lay of the land
|
| My son
|
| What’s the lie of the land
|
| My son
|
| (People laughing. people fighting.people watching)
|
| Between the ticker and the mind lies an air-block of wind |