The Moon Upstairs - Mott The Hoople



(ian huntermick ralphs)



Well my brother he was a drinking man

And i asked him for release

He said this won't do you no good

And sent for the police



Well they busted me for nothing

Cos they said i was insane

So they let my body go

But they locked away my brain



Well i wandered freely as a bird that had broken both its wings

And i hated them and they hated me and i hated everthing

And i realise that to survive well my body is not mine

And i feel neglected feel rejected







Living in the wrong time



And to those of you who always laugh

Let this be your epitaph



And my head is down and i'm called a clown by comedians that grace

The living stage of every page of worthless meaningless space

But i swear to you before we're though you're gonna feel our every blow

We ain't bleeding you we're feeding you but you're too f*cking slow



And to those of you who always laugh

Let this be your epitaph



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