But then it hits you, then it kicks you
then you realize you're not unique
and you ignore it, you implore it
just to let you turn the other cheek
don't wanna think about the schools in Bosnia
don't wanna sing about food in Somalia
I don't need this, I don't see this
all I want is inner peace
The night is full of holes
As bullets rip the sky
Of ink with gold
They twinkle
As the boys play rock and roll
They know that they can't dance
At least they know
I can't stand the beat
I'm asking for the cheque
The girl with crimson nails
Has Jesus 'round her neck
Swinging to the music
Swinging to the music
Hello Mamma and Dad I had to call collect
'Cause I ain't got a cent to my name
Well I'm sleepin' in the hotel doorway
And tonight they say it's gonna rain
And if you'd only send me some money
I'll be back on my feet again
Send it in care of the Sunday Mission, Box #10
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