There is something I've been meaning to tell you
When I die I intend to walk alone through the streets
Where the corner boys commend me for making peace
With the inner child from the mobile home
Now I am handing back the medals that you pinned to my chest,
We're at war, it's nit safe out in the open
And the padlock you are wearing around your neck is a target
For the cold hungry half wits at dawn
Who are struggling to compose another drinking song
I feel safe amongst the hawkers and the gawkers
Telling stories scribbled don on decks of cards
Flicking marbles through a mud stained maze of second hand ideas
Draw a drag whilst admiring the sweet haze of a city
In the morning by Jack B Yeats
Who's that at the door ah it's only reality,
Sure let him in makes sure he wipes his feet clean
Let us dissect the word from the markets and the factories
Bring me two glasses there is work to be done,
Fetch me two glasses there is work to be done
Let us compare Mothers and the madness in their method
Let us compare Fathers and the shape of their jawlines
Let us compare regretful sexual encounters
Let us compare addictions, past and present
Let us compare voices that dance in our heads
Let us make a pact now, let us spit in our hands
Let us compare songs that we wish we had written
Let us console one another
There is something I've been meaning to tell you
When I die I intend to walk alone
Through the streets where the corner boys salute me
For making peace with the inner child from the mobile home
For loosing sleep with the inner child from the mobile home
For counting sheep with the inner child from the mobile home