The Thin Red Line

Better to top of the bottom of the pits than bottom of the top of the pops. Says you.

Don't press me the preacher the pause button
Trying to fight is it the bitterest pill
When the other man's grass grows greener
And I'm singing for a penny a day
To the cracks and the creatures the cheques I keep trying to write
That never cover the bill
And I wonder where should I draw the thin red line today

If I could stand up to my solicitors
If I could but just understand
That my rhymes all lack reason my meters all bland
That's why all the scribes creeps and pharisees
Say they don't like my band
The downward path's worn and weary
And it's not going to plan

Well I wonder sometimes if I know what I'm trying to do
What I'm trying to say
Where the black and white lines converge
And the blue skies turn to grey
And they ask do I wonder sometimes if the songs that I'm trying to sell
Should be given away
And I wonder where should I draw the thin red line today

I can sound off 'til I suffocate
I can break down and kneel
March me to the marketplace signed up and sealed
But the bit will still cut
Be it golden or steel
And the laughter will blow me away

So hawk! Spit! Stick the shovel in
Backs to the iron
The unicorns drowned and they tamed all the lions
All my heroes and all my heroines
Have long since stopped trying
And my sheep are all stolen and strayed

Intro. D E C#m D A
Verse E A B A E A B E
Chorus A D E A A D E