As i looked out on england and poverty
Stricken the streets
Down in the dumps in this swamp
Were becoming deadbeats
I try to bend with the winds make the best
Of whatever will be
I know what i think but nobody knows what i mean
A young picaso would
Yet it remains hidden treasure and its my pleasure
It falls on deaf ears
For these words have never done no good
Still have not found the love of my life
Someone to share my sheets
Hit rock bottom in this pit biting my lip
I use the pen as a knife
Were slowly becoming deadbeats
I try to move with the times
I need a change of scene i know what i think
But nobody knows what i mean
Surly someone should
But it remains hidden treasure and its my pleasure
Blind eyes dont read them
And these words have never done no good
As i looked out on england and problems
Littered the streets
We were misrible drowning in debt i bet
Were becoming deadbeats
I try to shine in the dark
Whats a ahead is uncertain from what ive seen
I know what i think but nobody knows what i mean
I wish people could
Yet it remains hidden treasure and its my pleasure
The devil will find work for idle hands
Maybe thats why these words have never done no good
