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(McNabb) Vagrant suspicious and quite out of breath |
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Stumbles into a town where the people wear frowns, |
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Picks up a paper, the pages are blank, |
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They say "No news today, no more writers around", |
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What price hope over adversity, |
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Cause to applaud this perversity, |
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I'm still deaf from the hydroplanes, |
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Blessed with a cynical gaze... |
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No words in our own defence, |
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Independence our recompense, |
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Fate casting a finer line, |
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To pity or to pay. |
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These rapids we're rolling on, |
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Seem calm when they're good and gone, |
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Love, as good as the house it warms, |
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A million miles between us, |
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Still we're heading the same way... |
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I sing this song with my tongue in my cheek, |
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For the jilted, the jaundiced, the angry young men, |
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Who somehoe believe that the status quo changes |
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With juvenile slogans in downmarket rags. |
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What price hope over adversity, |
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Cause to applaud this perversity, |
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I'm still deaf from the hydroplanes, |
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Blessed with a cynical gaze... |
