The
house caught on fire in the winter
the bosses lay slain
and each of the workers decided to ten-fold their pay
and they saw in the mirror the sun had been shot down in flames
and nobody minded the hole in the sky or the rain
but it doesn’t really matter when the judgments are said
‘cos we all take our chances to find out romance is in some others bed
and you might burn your fingers hock your best rings for those
who’d have you standing naked then publicly auction the use of a hose
all the children were laughing their faces in half at the pain
of the girl who loved talking to walls and jumping at trains
and the words that ring true in the playground of fools will remain
and nobody minded the hole in the sky or the rain
but it doesn’t really matter when the rights have been read
‘cos we all take our chances to glance at the wife in the opposite bed
and I bet Nero and Pilate could easily explain
how policemen & pirates get stoned
in glass houses just finding their way.
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