Where do they go? The dreams of the poor
Do they plummet like snow wiped from the tail of a space station
And you, you hunt down the light with a sieve and a knife
Can I hunt it with you in the drunken night
The thief holds a mirror, he laughs and bows to his greed
I once met a hero but it seems we all wanted to kneel, kneel to a king
How do you pay for a flat in Paris? Must you sell your moustache
Or paint the wives of the banking staff
Will you give me a brush to wipe out the farce
Of the Forbes parade and the Vogue charade
The king holds a mirror and cries at the troughs on his hands
The void, the void is an anarchist she says, it won't discriminate
The black, the grey and the white are all waiting in line
Where do they go? The dreams of the poor
Are they the same? Will they see the light
Give me a flame, the tent has gone dark
Chicken joints surge as poets talk of the death of the I
And here, they're trading a nurse for a snake and a purse
And a year's pass to the Russian dance
The fool holds a mirror, he laughs and smiles at his luck
Does he know the system is broken and his crow
Is just meat for the sharks, for the money-mad sharks
Where do they go? The dreams of the poor
Where do they hide? Will we ever find the reason to know
They are still in our bones. Where do they go, the dreams of the poor