Last night I had too much to drink
Sitting in a club with so many fools
Playing to rules
Trying to impress but feeling rather empty
I had another drink
Drink - a - drink - a - drink - a - drink

What a way to spend that evening
They all turn up with their friends
Playing the game
But in the scene I should have been
Far away
Away - away - away - away - away
Getting up, I feel as if I'm remembering this scene before
I open the door to an empty room
Then I forget

The telephone rings and someone speaks
She would very much like to go out to a show
So what can I do - I can't think what to say
She sees through anyway
Away - away - away - away - away

Out of the front door I go
Traffic's moving rather slow
Arriving late, there she waits
Looking very angry, as cross as she can be
Be - a - be - a - be - a - be - a - be
Getting up, I feel as if I'm remembering this scene before
I open the door to an empty room
Then I forget

Button your lip don't let the shield slip
Take a fresh grip on your bullet proof mask
And if they try to break down your disguise
With their questions
You can hide hide hide
Behind paranoid eyes

You put on your brave face and
Slip over the road for a jar
Fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar
Laughing to loud at the rest of the world
With the boys in the crowd
You hide hide hide
Behind petrified eyes

You believed in their stories of fame, fortune and glory
Now you're lost in a haze of alcohol soft middle age
The pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high
And you hide hide hide
Behind brown and mild eyes

   --- instrumental ---

Big man, pig man, ha ha charade you are.
You well heeled big wheel, ha ha charade you are.
And when your hand is on your heart,
You're nearly a good laugh,
Almost a joker,
With your head head down in the pig bin,
Saying, "keep on digging."
Pig stain on your fat chin.
What do you hope to find?
When you're down in the pig mine,
You're nearly a laugh,
You're nearly a laugh,
But you're really a cry.

Bus stop rat bag, ha ha charade you are.
You fucked up old hag, ha ha charade you are
You radiate cold shafts of broken glass.
You're nearly a good laugh,
Almost worth a quick grin
You like the feel of steel,
You're hot stuff with a hat pin,
And you're good fun with a hand gun.
You're nearly a laugh,
You're nearly a laugh
But you're really a cry.

Hey you, Whitehouse,
Ha ha charade you are
You house proud town mouse,
Ha ha charade you are
You're trying to keep our feelings off the street
You're nearly a real treat,
All tight lips and cold feet,
And do you feel abused?
.....! ......! ......! ......!
you gotta stem the evil tide,
And keep it all on the inside.
Mary you're nearly a treat,
Mary you're nearly a treat
But you're really a cry.

If you didn't care what happened to me,
And I didn't care for you,
We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain,
Occasionally glancing up through the rain,
Wondering which of the buggers to blame
And watching for pigs on the wing

You know that I care what happens to you,
And I know that you care for me,
So I don't feel alone,
Or the weight of the stone,
Now that I've found somewhere safe
To bury my bone.
And any fool knows a dog needs a home,
A shelter from pigs on the wing.

A cloud of eiderdown draws around me
Softening the sound
Sleepy time when I lie
With my love by my side
And she's breathing low
And a candle dies
The night comes down, you lock the door
The book falls to the floor
As darkness falls and waves roll by
The seasons change, the wind is warm
Now wakes the owl, now sleeps the swan
Behold the dream, the dream is gone
Green fields, a cold rain is falling
Near the golden door
Deep beneath the ground the early morning sounds
And I go down
Sleepy time when I lie
With my love by my side
And she's breathing low
And I rise like a bird
In the haze when the rays touch the sky
And the night wings by

   --- instrumental ---

Hey, Eugene,
This is Henry McClean
And I've finished my beautiful flying machine
And I'm ringing to say
That I'm leaving and maybe
You'd like to fly with me
And hide with me, baby

Isn't it strange
How little we change
Isn't it sad we're insane
Playing the games that we know and in tears
The games we've been playing for thousands and thousands and ....

Pointing to the cosmic glider
"Pull this plastic glider higher
Light the fuse and stand right back"
He cried "This is my last goodbye."

Point me at the sky and tell it fly
Point me at the sky and tell it fly
Point me at the sky and tell it fly

And if you survive till two thousand and five
I hope you're exceedingly thin
For if you are stout you will have to breathe out
While the people around you breathe in

People pressing on might say
It's something that I hate to say
I'm slipping down to eat the ground
A little refuge on my brain

Point me at the sky and tell it fly
Point me at the sky and tell it fly
Point me at the sky and tell it fly

And all we've got to say to you is goodbye
It's time to go, better run and get your bags, it's goodbye
Nobody cry, it's goodbye
Crash, crash, crash, crash, goodbye......

Did you know...it was all going to go so wrong for you
And did you see it was all going to be so right for me
Why did we tell you then
You were always the golden boy then
And that you'd never lose that light in your eyes

Hey you...did you ever realise what you'd become
And did you see that it wasn't only me you were running from
Did you know all the time but it never bothered you anyway
Leading the blind while I stared out the steel in your eyes

The rain fell slow, down on all the roofs of uncertainty
I thought of you and the years and all the sadness fell away from me
And did you know...

I never thought that you'd lose that light in your eyes

Tell me true  tell me why was Jesus crucified
Is it for this that Daddy died?
Was it for you?  Was it me?
Did I watch too much T.V.?
Is that a hint of accusation in your eyes?
If it wasn't for the nips
Being so good at building ships
The yards would still be open on the clyde
And it can't be much fun for them
Beneath the rising sun
With all their kids committing suicide
What have we done Maggie what have we done
What have we done  to England
Should we shout should we scream
"What happened to the post war dream?"
Oh Maggie, Maggie what have we done?

   --- instrumental ---