| Lyrics |
( RE Broughton )A five years old child is playing beads witha thinker.
Beads with a thinker-if you please.
The minister of data feels like getting high.
Looks down on you people thru' the holesin both his eyes-outside.A tired and gaudy woman is looking for a manger.
Somewhere women can be.
If you mean to say that you don't know whyyou hurt someone a mother cries.I'm shot to pieces .nerves ends danglingthen I'll come on like the Boston Strangler.I'm not alone in this place never gets pastthe tears on a face.
Everybody trying to help me like they'retrying to win a race.
She said she loved me , that was delightfulbut she never really saw meso come and get your eyeful.
Look into mymirror, everyone's a mirror.
Does it make you warm or does it make you shiver.
Come back flow-
Here and now-
It's where we grow.
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