Text:
Roy Harper

The judge sits on his great assize Twelve men wise with swollen thighs Who never ever told no lies Whose minds were ever such a size Whose lives were

Well, the generations come Hoy-polloy or chewing gum Bad manners still in style And a very low profile As the new wave rebel hoards Scribble balls on

Lonely faces Empty spaces Hiding places Nowhere to be Growing skylines Spreading street signs........Jesus freakers All in straight lines.........Strange

I get up and I walk across the room I get to the door - I've been there before Wondering what I got up for When all of a certain I remember What I was

Oh Cora, oh Cora I never knew your head Cora for that matter I never shared your bed Cora, oh Cora It wasn't lightly said But living in two cultures Our

He woke up in a crashing din Half in a dream he grabbed his sword They smashed the door down and rushed in "What the Hell" was his last word He staggered

If the six billion On the planet To a woman Decided That it was worth saving That puppy foxes In the spring air Scratching parasites And springing hope

Cardboard city Who gives a shit Cardboard city It's a hit Hoards of the medias Whirring their cameras Living vicarious lives Tasting it Cardboard city

There's a lady who knows you know All the to's and the fro's they go When they're changing their minds As the passion unwinds But she knows as she watches