Better off dead.
There
was a face and a heartache that someone had drawn on.
And just enough time for the night to part by without warning.
Away in the distance there's a blue flashing light.
Someone's in trouble, somewhere tonight.
With the flickering neon signs ready to fuse.
All the wind blows away all the yet deadest news.
Well they locked up the daughters and they battened their hatches.
Only a witch could find a foot that never could catch her.
Through the grey street window of an art cafe.
We were directed, been taken away.
But that's the red haze that you call a GP.
As the hearts of the drunks fall down from the street.
You got the staves in the boiler,
the coals in the fire.
You had your hammer to stay on fire.
Storm of roses
storming inside.
The sky.
You
better up dead if you are and you died.