Ulysses, turn
Your head away
Things are not right
At home they say
Like a child you
Believed the lies
Sat in theatres with
Newspaper eyes
Down on main street
In your own home
The race is running
The girls are grown
Down in the churchyard
Watch from afar
His mind is wandering
His mind's at war
And his mind explodes on the concrete floor
And the call it a shame and c'est l'amour
But they call it something else where I come from
They cry oppression
They tell him no
They call him stupid
His price is low
Like corporations
It's in the deal
They think they know him
He isn't real
And he wants to speak his feelings but their word is hard
When his soul's at stake it's they who play the cards
And it's almost as if they don't understand
Almost as if they don't understand
0 comments:
Post a Comment