They flutter behind you your possible pasts
some brighteyed and crazy some frightened and lost
a warning to anyone still in command
of their possible future to take care
in derelict sidings the poppies entwine
with cattle trucks lying in wait for the next time.

Do you remember me? how we used to be?
do you think we should be closer?

she stood in the doorway the ghost of a smile
haunting her face like a cheap hotel sign
her cold eyes imploring the men in their Macs
for the gold in their bags or the knives in their backs
stepping up boldly one put out his hand
he said, "I was just a child then now I'm only a man."

Do you remember me? how we used to be?
do you think we should be closer?

By the cold and religious we were taken in hand
shown how to feel good and told to feel bad
tongue tied and terrified we learned how to pray
now our feelings run deep and cold as the clay
and strung out behind us the banners and flags
of our possible pasts lie in tatters and rags.

Do you remember me? how we used to be?
do you think we should be closer?

Jesus Jesus what's it all about
trying to clout these little ingrates into shape
when I was their age all the lights went out
there was no time to whine and mope about.

And even now part of me flies over
Dresden at angels one five
though they'll never fathom it behind my
sarcasm desperate memories lie.

Sweetheart sweetheart are you fast asleep, good
'cos that's the only time that I can really talk to you
and there is something that I've locked away
a memory that is too painful
to withstand the light of day.

When we came back from the war the banners and
flags hung on everyone's door
we danced and we sang in the street and
the church bells rang
but burning in my heart
my memory smoulders on
of the gunners dying words on the intercom.

Jesus Christ, I might as well be dead
if I can't see how dangerous it must feel to be
training human cogs for the machine
without some shell-shocked lunatic like me
bombarding their still soft shores
with sticks and stones that were lying around
in the pile of unspeakable feelings I'd found
when I turned back the stone
turned over the stone
of my own disappointment back home.

Brezhnev took Afghanistan
Begin took Beirut
Galtieri took the Union Jack
and Maggie over lunch one day
took a cruiser with all hands
apparently to make him give it back.

Take all your overgrown infants away somewhere
and build them a home a little place of their own
the Fletcher Memorial
home for incurable tyrants and kings

And they can appear to themselves every day
on closed circuit T.V.
to make sure they're still real
it's the only connection they feel
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Reagan and Haig
Mr. Begin and friend Mrs. Thatcher and Paisley
Mr. Brezhnev and party
the ghost of McCarthy
the memories of Nixon
and now adding colour a group of anonymous Latin-American meat packing glitterati"

Did they expect us to treat them with any respect

They can polish their medals and sharpen their smiles,
and amuse themselves playing games for a while
boom boom, bang bang lie down you're dead

Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye
with their favourite toys
they'll be good girls and boys
in the Fletcher memorial home for colonial
wasters of life and limb.

Is everyone in?
are you having a nice time?
now the final solution can be applied.

They disembarked in 45
and no one spoke and no one smiled
there were too many spaces in the line
gathered at the cenotaph
all agreed with hand on heart
to sheath the sacrificial knifes.

but now

She stands upon Southampton Dock
with her handkerchief
and her summer frock clings
to her wet body in the rain
in quiet desperation knuckles
white upon the slippery reins
she bravely waves the boys goodbye again.

And still the dark stain spreads between
his shoulder blades
a mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves
and when the fight was over
we spent what they had made
but in the bottom of our hearts
we felt the final cut.

Through the fish eyed lens of tear stained eyes
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time
and far from flying high in clear blue skies
I'm spiralling down to the hole in the ground where I hide.

If you negotiate the minefield in the drive
and beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyes
and if you make it past the shotgun in the hall
dial the combination open the priesthole
and if I'm in I'll tell you what's behind the wall.

There's a kid who had a big hallucination
making love to girls in magazines
he wonders if you're sleeping with your new found faith
could anybody love him
or is it just a crazy dream.

And if I show you my dark side
will you still hold me tonight
and if I open my heart to you
and show you my weak side
what would you do
would you sell your story to rolling stone
would you take the children away and leave me alone
and smile in reassurance
as you whisper down the phone
would you send me packing
or would you take me home.

Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings
thought I oughta tear the curtain down
I held the blade in trembling hands
prepared to make it but just then the phone rang
I never had the nerve to make the final cut.

Fuck all that we've got to get on with these
got to compete with the Wily Japanese
there's too many home fires burning
and not enough trees
so fuck all that
we've got to get on with these.

Can't stop lose job mind gone silicon
what bomb get away pay day make hay
break down need fix big six
clickity click hold on oh no brrrrrrrrrring bingo!

Make'em laugh make'em cry make'em dance in the aisles
make'em pay make'em stay make'em feel OK.

Not nah john
we've got to get on with the film show
Hollywood waits at the end of the rainbow
who cares what it's all about
as long as the kids go
not now John
got to get on with the show.

Hang on John
we've got to get on with this
i don't know what it is
but it fits on here like this .........
come at the end of the shift
we'll go and get pissed
but not now john
I've got to get on with this.

Hold on john
I think there's something good on
I used to read books but .........
it could be the news
or some other abuse
or it could be reusable shows

Fuck all that we've got to get on with these
got to compete with the wily Japanese
no need to worry about the Vietnamese
got to bring the Russian bear to his knees
well, maybe not the Russian bear
maybe the Swedes
we showed Argentina
now lets go and show these
make us feel tough
and won't Maggie be pleased
nah nah nah nah nah nah!

S'cusi dove il bar
Se para collo pou eine toe bar
S'il vous plait ou est le bar
Oi' where's the fucking bar John!

Win my rear view mirror the sun is going down
sinking behind bridges in the road
and I think of all the good things
that we have left undone
and I suffer premonitions confirm suspicions
of the holocaust to come.

The wire that holds the cork
that keeps the anger in
gives way
and suddenly it's day again
the sun is in the east
even though the day is done
two suns in the sunset
hmmmmmmmmm
could be the human race is run.

Like the moment when your brakes lock
and you slide toward the big truck
and stretch the frozen moments with your fear
and you'll never hear their voices
and you'll never see their faces
you have no recourse to the law anymore.

And as the windshield melts
my tears evaporate
leaving only charcoal to defend
finally I understand
the feelings of the few
ashes and diamonds
foe and friend
we were all equal in the end.