Lift up your headlift up your head
Your room in this decade of eathquake and bile
Awaits you like a stewardess’s mortuary smile
You’ll miss all the funyou’ll miss all the fun
A rich man turned pauperhis death marked [a sham]
I can’t get back to see it’til you lift up your head
Me and mine are foolsme and mine are fools
Say our elders who despise usthough we’re no longer young
They’re tired of our sneeringand we’ve blocked out their main street’s sun
They’re sleeping as we riseone punch is drunk with pride
Resides in [brutal face]sick from petrol smoke and [steak]
The few bohemianswith their too-white shopping wrists
Confide in some crimson [page]
And pray to look cute in their squalor-dyed hair
Old age
Rolled out of hereis sun bright and clear
And we hold the fortunein our cumulous
There’s nothing else on earth that I will be part of
Why waste a lifetime on soil which won’t bear fruit?
And why argue with gangsters who only smile and act mute?
If he pulls that triggeras he says he must
Then to themgoes the last word [and then]
The sleep of the justthe sleep of the justthe sleep of the just
But that’s never enough
But that’s nevernever enough