The Final Cut



Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes

I can barely define the shape of this moment in time

And far from flying high in clear blue skies

I'm spiralling down to the hole in the ground where I hide.



If you negotiate the minefield in the drive

And beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyes

And if you make it past the shotgun in the hall,

Dial the combination, open the priesthole

And if I'm in I'll tell you what's behind the wall.



There's a kid who had a big hallucination

Making love to girls in magazines.

He wonders if you're sleeping with your new found faith.

Could anybody love him

Or is it just a crazy dream?



And if I show you my dark side

Will you still hold me tonight?

And if I open my heart to you

And show you my weak side

What would you do?

Would you sell your story to Rolling Stone?

Would you take the children away

And leave me alone?

And smile in reassurance

As you whisper down the phone?

Would you send me packing?

Or would you take me home?



Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings,

Thought I oughta tear the curtain down.

I held the blade in trembling hands

Prepared to make it but just then the phone rang

I never had the nerve to make the final cut.

"Hello? Listen, I think I've got it. Okay, listen its a HaHa!"