It’s like broken glass
You get cut before you see it
So open up your eyes
So take me from the wreckage
Save me from the blast
Lift me up and take me back
Don’t let me keep on walking…walking on broken glass
Come pick me up
Take me out
Fuck me up
Steal my records
You pack up your boots and blue jeans and your records and your pride,
And you tell yourself you ventured and you tell yourself you tried.
And it’s back to the surly doormen and the canopies you go.
And the buses seem to chuckle and the towers seem to crow:
“We told you so.”
Well I told you once and I told you twice
But ya never listen to my advice
Told you once I won’t tell you again
It’s a bad way
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
B-B-B-B-Bad
Bad to the bone
Take heed, dear heart
Once apart, she can touch nor me nor you
Dressed as one
A wolf will betray a lamb
The wolf, prowling in the nighttime
The wolf, howling in the moonshine
The wolf, gives you what you want
But he ain’t no friend of mine
In touch with the ground
I’m on the hunt I’m after you
Smell like I sound, I’m lost in a crowd
And I’m hungry like the wolf
Little Red Riding Hood
I’d like to hold you if I could
But you might think I’m a big bad wolf so I won’t
Owoooooooo!
you don’t say no
with an empty belly
and a barbed wire bonnet on a wolf
hangin’ at your door
Every thought you think’s not how it goes,
Though to see the way you treat them, explains your empty soul,
Make demands of others that you control,
There will always be that certain someone, whose answer will be no.
I woke up and I had a big idea
To buy a new soul at the start of every year
I paid up and it cost me pretty dear
Here’s a hymn to those that disappear
It was a fine idea at the time
Now it’s a brilliant mistake
The video games say “Play me.”
I’m a 21st century digital boy
I don’t know how to read
But I got a lot of toys
[Man that was a nice opening…big fat one right down the middle…]
Death seed blind man’s greed
Poets’ starving children bleed
Nothing he’s got he really needs
Twenty first century schizoid man.
It’s the end, the end of the 70’s
It’s the end, the end of the century
Look at mother nature on the run in the 1970s