Keith

Sing on, Sting

Sting\'s on the radio

Sending out an S.O.S

I\'m on this autobus

Gazing at a mess

That once was a lady

No doubt 

Downing a can of warm Mahou.

By the look in her eyes

She\'s nowt else to do.

Her dress is a mess

And her hair\'s a nest

For dandruff and nits.

She\'s loose at the seams

Breaking to bits.

Is she a mother?

Or someone\'s ex-lover?

Why should I care

If she\'s one or the other?

She wouldn\'t want

My sympathy

Doesn\'t care 

About me

Staring

Or even what I think of her.

Am I past caring?

If I am 

Then sing on Sting

You\'re singing for me -

Save all our souls

And set us free,

(Free, free)

From apathy.

Yet she knows-

I can just tell 

She knows-

It\'s far too late

For help.

 

These days 

We\'re all sipping warm beer

When it comes to brotherly love.

So,

Sing on Sting

And pray to God

That someone\'s

Listening.....

‘cos no one on this bus is.