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There's a brown shirt swapped for a thin blue tie |
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There's a black truth swapped for a thin blue lie |
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There's a slim man sporting a clean cut dream |
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There's a slim man courting a wide extreme |
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There's a fly-blown flag in a dry-bone town |
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There will be no ships because they've all gone down |
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There's a man with a medal but he'll never sleep |
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There are guns in his head, they say the war was cheap |
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There are heaped up dreams on the mounds of slag |
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There are moped up tears as the hours drag |
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There's a suitcase gone and there's an empty drawer |
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There's a broken cup lying on the floor |
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There are questions asked in the house tonight |
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There's a wife been involved in a pillow fight |
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There's a husband there who she hardly knows |
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There's a patched up dream for a winter rose |
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There's a soft touch finally come to blows |
