Drowning, drowning in the real
Drowning in the liquid seas on the picadilly line, rat-race
The penultimate migration
Scuttling through the damp electric labyrinth
A legacy of romance from a twilight world
Sheathed with the Walkman wear the halo of distortion
Where are the prophets, where are the visionaries?
The thief of Baghdad hides in Islington now
While his generation digests high fiber ignorance
For the terminally insane, insane
Stereo hero becalm, be still, bewitch
A mistress of release from a magazine's thighs
Waiting, waiting the season of the button
In search of absent school friends
Pandora's box of holocausts
Nine to fives, with suitable ties
This world is totally fugazi
Magdalene's contract more than favors
Trim the barbed wire hedges, this is Brixton chess
Provoking the heartache to renew the license
A knight for embankments folds his newspaper castle
And linger with the heartburn of Good Friday's last supper
Where are the prophets, where are the visionaries?
(An albatross in the marry time tradition)
He'll fade with old soldiers in the grease stained roll call
Aural contraceptive aborting pregnant conversation
(Sideshow)
A son of the Swastika of '45, parading a peroxide standard
Radioactive perfumes for the fashionably
Propping up the crust of the glitter conscience
Peepshow
(Peepshow)
A creature of habit, begs the boatman's coin
Of a bleeding heart poet in a fragile capsule
Safe and dry in my sea of troubles
Provided door to door Belsens
Baptized in tears from the real, tears from the real
The feeding hands of western promise hold her by the throat
Where are the prophets, where are the visionaries?
Praying deportation for his sacred cow
Son watches father scan obituary columns
(She turned the harpoon and it pierced my heart)
Graffiti disciples conjure testaments of hatred
(Caress Ophelia's hand with breaststroke ambition)
Cowering behind curtains and the taped up, painted windows
(She hung herself around my neck)
Cast adrift as their sideshow
The dowry of a relative mystery girl
Decriminalized genocide
A Vietnamese flower, a dockland union
Do-do-do you realize
Aerosol wands whisper where the searchlights
From the time-life guardians in their conscience bubbles
Do-do-do you realize
Where are the poets to breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary?
Gracefully cruising satellite infested heavens
Where are the poets to breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary?
Where are the poets to breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary?
Wrapped in the christening shard of a hangover
Do-do-do you realize
