Let us lie awhile And tell tall tales till dawn We'll wake before the generals And together see them off You burn the dispatches And I'll put the kettle on
Beware of the professionals Poets whores revolutionaries They have no interest In curing anything
These coffee grounds almost Make life worth living out If it wasn't for that Hissing on your radio He lacks the courtesy To off himself at home
Beware of the professionals Poets whores revolutionaries They have no interest In curing anything
That old snake oil salesman Is back again The strings have wrung His puppets dead We dance down The same old ground To our graves...