Final Days of the Apocalypse

The men are up in cuffs
And the girls are up the duff
Most of us are lost
The space time like astronauts
Heads wound up in knots
Violence with a dash of love
And that smile won’t last for long
No one will last alone
The chip of the yellow
The skin of the darker suit
Taking that darker route
suits
While we sharpen our shoes
Make up my own bloody rules
Usually bloody rules
I’ve overpaid my bloody dues
Grey sky three points the sun
Grey sky three points the sun
Grey sky three points the sun
Into horizon’s bin
Night begins
Cool, calm and out and howling within
Wolfless charm and toothy grin
Fresh haircuts all looking trim
The inside is priceless
But the outlook is green
Outlaw and for minor wins
We are minor kings
The boy grew up and I haven’t seen him since
The finger placed him
Take it like a champ yea, take it on the chin
Follow in the footprints way back to the ruins
You’ll find a blueprint the hubrius
Walk the tiles and yards if the shoe fits
Talk of tiles and words with your loose lips
The reveller, excitements, box cooked chips
Full throtle
We all sing from the heart but not the same hymns
Better days minused by gin
Dash of
When I get rich I’ll sleep with the lights on