She Was So Afraid Of Everything She Said

Since Her Mother Told Her Why Once Upon A Time

There Was No Rhyme

Before The Clock Slammed Another Door

Of The Weary Hours We Were Facing A Second Hand Shylock

Shylocked In, In On Us



I Saw What It Had Taken

Playing Back That Old Brigade Of Mine

Everything Was Dirty, Everything Was Without Rhyme

Everything Was Dirty, Everything Was Without Rhyme

Cause Me And Nigger Marched

Yes, Me And Nigger Blasted Our Way Out

Of Here Just Like Yesterday



Yesterday's Streets Were Burnt Down Into Shells

Mothers Weep While Children Sleep

Like Ancestors In The Ground

The Misery Of Nuns Lie Together Like Sons

Who Do Not Have The Taste For The Battle



We Are Shuffled Like A Pack Of Cards In The Dead Of Night

Like Lovers Below Bataan, Below The Senses

Cause The Senses Smell Of Tears

While We And Nigger Marched

Blasted Our Way Out Of Here

Close The Door And Let's Have Some Private Life