So I started walking on this road left behind what I couldn\'t find
Short space cotton hold whiskey rye leaves a taste in the sky
Short stories writing poets raging heart bursting from outside in
It\'s sad never mind let\'s go find Jerusalem was born upside down
Smokers halls dreamers ball leave the world to go grab a girl
With their dresses pulled up high to reach the sky I ask them why
Ah, coffins full with graveyards empty partying up in heavens lie
And God blessed me with a pen so I sit and write on until when
With twin towers other histories which tell a tale to leave behind
Berlin wall took a fall escapes so I couldn\'t crawl underneath it all
World affairs shock and balding hairs wondering what it\'s all about
Barrelled rum served at the bar where you go but don\'t go far
Mosques rescue living souls feeding and living off street bread
With shoelace ties and buttoned influence of worship rights
Pitter patter tiny feet follow me and hold a hand where life if grand
Torched deep somewhere in the delightful light of what\'s to come
Grace the Lord with a smile until it\'s time to say I\'ll take a bow
Still, a thought never taught where nothing ever leaves some trust
Sex in store buy a bike when love reaches out to burn out hell
Fights I have seen psychological mental issues we had to drown
Frowns crowns bloodied brows when lovers took over religious ties
Barking dogs barking mad with genius sitting right by my side
Records play smiles grin and Stalin said Russia loves to win
Dickie bows on their tows with shirts fitting in with escapades
It\'s not about the winning or feeling left out doing it with style
So another lonely poet calling up to ask God if he was wrong
Fiery fights in holding up two things together with a taste of things to come
Mysteries keep unfolding unbending with dignity hitting highs
Fall from grace fall in love and romanticise overseas flying birds
Listen in write some more with buzzing bees invisible wings I see
Read the lines they read so well and with disaster in control
Leave alone the dirty streets where fishmongers feed our mouths
District lights prostitute heights gaining in whatever they can earn
Step down gentle town with an afterglow of stormy nights we cry
Humble as a poet begins to chance the loss of life when he smiles
Come back round but everything found and now it\'s time to put the world to rights,