The Drunk and the Disorderly - The Alarm

Down in the gutter of my life story

I`m lying in a bed with a dream playing in my head

Spitting blood into a test tube

I used to be half a man I used to be useful

I walk with the demons and the devils

Shadowboxing the ghosts of my reflection in windows

All the pigeons and the statues

Are staring down at me

At the drunk and the disorderly

Paper bag bottles in the wardrobe

Stealing from the shops where I once bought my hope

All wrapped up in a plastic bag

Lying still while the human race step over the rags

I`ll name the names in my diatribe

Posthumously posted on my website

Milkmen and taxi drivers

Are last men on the street

And the drunk and the disorderly

Who am I, who are you

Who is the god that we how down to

Who are we, who are they

Who is the master, who is the slave

I stepped out of the present tense

I cut the umbilical chord of reality

I don`t know where this really is

Or where all this illusion really begins

I keep an old business card inside my shoes

An anonymous connection to the life I once used

Curtains moving in the council houses

On the grey estates

Of the drunk and the disorderly

Who am I, who are you

Who is the god that we bow down to

Who are we, who are they

Who is the master, who is the slave

I am powerless

There is a greater power

As I understand it

Within myself

I`m ready for changing

I`m ready to be changed

Hear my voice

Call and be called

I know where the bodies have been buried

I know things only the dead should know

All above me

All around me

Within and without

Are the drunk and the disorderly

The drunk and the disorderly