I woke up this morning
Dreading the thoughts of anotherdull and boring day
Hey! woe is me.
I go out on the streetsnorthside of the city
I see the steelthe fading rust
And the fields I used to play in….
My friends are famous and all my foes live happy
Loved by lycrafooled by velcro
And fucked by what they need….
But who am I to criticise? my pointing finger backfires
I hang my head down low.
I once believed in jesus
Now I can’t believe in rock ’n’ roll
From baptism to alcoholin a land suffocatingly green
Hey! the myth is magicdo you know what I mean?
The politics of sin and of sex
Suffer the foolspawn our jewelswill it ever change?
But who am I to criticise? I’ve made my bedI lie on it
And hold my head up high
My disbelief. my fake redemption.
My twentieth century.
My holy war. my self indulgence.
My twentieth century.
My human flesh. my sad dependence.
My twentieth century.
My apathy. my big decision.
My twentieth century.