My Beer from Smelling Dogs by Tom Robinson

MY BEER
The sherrifs don't sweat in this town full of Fords
With their faded belief in the cash of the Lord
With their TV smiles and their midnight cream
while the cold tramp burns and the losers dream

Them with their wine
My beer, my beer
Their wine and friends
My beer

On the lawn full of judges they are sitting like chance
In this poor world of crime you can watch power dance
The jungle waits where pity hates
The devil haunts
My beer

I'm just money for those guys
Drinking dull trust on a bridge full of eyes
My broken magic and backstreet pain
Rips through the trees like hungry rain
On the cold road through the colder sea
Hear the stone roar of the thunder war
Blowing my beer - it's my beer

In this blind bar I chase my heart
You take my pride
My beer

The dead road speaks
Of bright guilt tears
An empty hell
My beer

© GREG WARD 1985

• Pop
• music
• London