You came to shift the debris, you changed a lot of things,
But the ghost that walks my kitchen is still wearing golden rings,
And someone locked the fire door and hindered my escape,
But I’m dressed in my regalia measured by the tailors’ tape.
And children unprotected in some secret terror held,
And mutant men in hiding, like sapling trees are felled.
And wheels were made for turning, and eyes for giving sight,
And beds were made for passion in the middle of the night.
So cry to your attorney- he’s told so many lies,
His words like tin-pot soldiers are shrouded in disguise.
Go ask your mother and father, you know they know what’s best,
They’ll shield you from the stalker who watched you get undressed.
And smoking gives you cancer ‘cos all pleasure leads to pain,
And drugs that send you skywards drop you to the floor again,
So take your magic potion and climb up to the sky,
It eradicates your problems, but tends to make you die.
And shouts of “Revolution!” instills false confidence,
And causes folk to gather, take arms and cause offence.
And when the gathered masses all march towards their fate,
There’s always one who’s missing, and some are always late.
For matches made in heaven too often end in hell,
Exactly where the change occurs no on can really tell.
This gentle breeze that strokes your hair and whispers love for you,
Is wilder now than it was before- it’s getting darker too.
And Hell it hath no fury like a devil/woman scorned,
And sorrow raged like thunder on the offspring that you’ve spawned.
When fire prompts the notion to sing a different song,
And terror lies in no-mans-land, the whole world can’t be wrong.
United by our mutual pain we’ll march as if to war,
To open up another dream but close another door.
There’s poison in my liquor but it taste’s alright to me,
And what I see is beautiful, as radiant as can be.
So don’t go throwing messages like daggers piercing through,
For passion is a cannon and it’s pointing straight at you.
And when I open fire, and bombs rain from above,
You’ll witness infatuation and spiritual love.
And leaders caused a problem by sending men to war,
‘Cos risking lives for peace’s sake has been proved wrong before.
So this is my conclusion, my innermost kept thoughts,
I gut myself before you like an informer in law-courts,
And thanks for your attention, for listening to me,
I’m sorry if I bored you. I’m sorry if I’m free.
I’m sorry if I scared you, or made you weep or cry,
I never meant to hurt you- you know I’d rather die.
I’d rather die.
Please don’t cry.
Goodbye.