Walk up to failure
Walk up to regret
Walk up to a place
You’ll never forget
the new
To the red paradise of dreams and scars
Arm scars, leg scars, belly scars
The mark of the old country
The old cliche exploitation
always be young
“Welcome to Hell”
She might as well say, as you
Walk up! Walk up!
Walk up on your lunch break
Walk up!
Walk up to see , to see
You still smell of
As you trawl the accounts
Flip through the company books
You can say you rode the coattails of blind chance
But I know that you’re itchin for romance
Another lonely business c**t
The kind that only knows how to the touch
In the boardroom, fish fingers shake hands with the top flight men
Check your balls for lumps and such once they’ve left
What’s that itch?
Is that new?
Is that workin as it’s supposed to?
Am I alive? Is she sleeping with eyes open?
There’s a place for your briefcase
But watch out for the wandering hands
Walk up!
I don’t wanna tell you how to spend your days
on your lunch break
To see God, to see Sweet Jane
To pay for a new name
these things or just get by on work
on break
Your
By the end of the
When catches your eye
She stays quiet
The humiliation is almost complete
Chalk it up to blind faith
Tomorrow on your lunch break
Walk up! WALK UP!