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Coyne |
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Well I'm going to the house upon the hill, |
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The place where they give you pills |
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The rooms are always chilled, |
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They're never cosy |
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Where they give three suits a year |
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And at Christmas time a bottle of beer |
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And at Easter time the mayor comes round, |
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He's always smiling |
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Where the old ladies sit by the garden wall |
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And they never hear the bluebird call |
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Never notice the leaves that fall cause they're all crazy |
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Where the red bus stands by the great big gate |
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The red bus that's always late, |
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You know why it's always late |
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Cause it's always empty |
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Funny, funny, funny, funny, oh so funny that's it's making me cry |
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Funny, funny, funny, funny, oh so funny Lord, sometimes I wish I could die. |
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Now this pagan life is getting me down, my brow is filled with a furl and a frown |
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My eyelids lower as low as can be but I'm not sleeping |
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I wander round that Brixton Square with the bottles strewn everywhere |
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Under tables and under chairs and they're all broken |
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Where the big red face of the man on the beat Says Hey, have you had someting to eat? |
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Thrusts out his yellow teeth, they're all for biting |
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Where I don't have a cent and I don't know how I'll pay the rent |
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I think I'll turn bent and make some money |
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So if you know a way I can go from out of this show you know |
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You could give me a golden glow but you're not trying |
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You'd never lift a regular hand, you call me a lazy man |
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Who on earth will ever understand I'm really trying |
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So I'm going to the house upon the hill, the place where they give you pills |
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And where the doctors they don't kill cause they're so friendly |
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Where the red bus stands by the great big gate |
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The red bus and it's always late, you know why it's always late |
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Because it's always empty |
