Fall asleep on my shoulder...divine
Lean over and rest for a second on my shoulder
During a weak moment
Eleanor of Fazakerly, sits slightly
Behind me to the right
Gently leans into me with her bosom
Tell me you made mistakes
Tell me you took pictures, that...that
That you inhabited coastal seaweed drying huts
You
Gets away with murder, cleans with
A paintbrush, diamonds and matinees and
Not cleaning as you go
Fail to prepare, prepare to fail
Foot in a bucketful of fables
And that system is capitalism
On the Ormskirk Road, three a.m.
A man whose future just got bleaker
Is floored by a bloody big copper
Being something of a worrier
I, like you, take off
My coat only when seated
Brolly twister
Strife
Threat
Every man a Billy Bimbo
As for lack of water, it
Isn't fair and it isn't right
As for Hillbillies and Italians, well they
Are quite close together, so it seems
Inside the slammer, no more
Red-eye, no more
Touched by the left, no more
Luck
With good fortune
Life get to crumble
He to his own destiny
Follows one struggle and asks is there much?
Directed West
The price, the Caucasian
Tour, tour, previous tours
Kiss, cut, this is how three won