Jesus Jesus what's it all about
trying to clout these little ingrates into shape
When I was their age all the lights went out
There was no time to whine and mope about
And even now part of me flies over
Dresden at angels one five
Though they'll never fathom it behind my
sarcasm desperate memories lie
Sweetheart sweetheart are you fast asleep, good
'cos that's the only time that I can really speak to you
And there is something that I've locked away
A memory that is too painful
to withstand the light of day
When we came back from the war the banners and flags
hung on everyones door
we danced and we sang in the street and the church bells rang
But burning in my heart
my memory smoulders on
of the gunners dying words on the intercom
Jesus Christ, I might as well be dead
if I can't see how dangerous it must feel to be
training human cogs for the machine
without some shell-shocked lunatic like me
Bombarding their still soft shores
with sticks and stones that were lying around
in the pile of unspeakable feelings I'd found
when I turned back the stone turned over the stone
of my own disappointment back home.
