Prop me up in a greasy spoon
Under an English summer pale moon
Another desperate breakfast (out of the)
Out of the rains of June
I toast my tea in mourning (mourning)
For a morning come too soon
I toast my tea in mourning (mourning)
For a morning come too soon
Oh-oh-oh
The sheep sing on the death wagon as we pass on Butcher's Road
And I heard the song from the bus stop that rang out just as cold
All beasts in ones and twos come limping from their dens
The birds feign the joy of music and mock us from the bushes once again
Ha-ha-ha, oh-oh-oh
Prop me up in a greasy spoon
Under an English summer pale moon
Another desperate breakfast (out of the)
Out of the rains of June
I toast my tea in mourning (mourning)
For a morning come too soon
I toast my tea in mourning (mourning)
For a morning come too soon
Ha-ha-ha
The dogs of limbo piss in houses
Caged canaries whistle one song
Quiet mothers adjust their blouses
Tired fathers sing along
An echoed mocking from the gulls
The house cats are getting thinner
Rolling out amongst the wolves
Looking like a dog's dinner
Alas, another inevitable bastard
To emerge out of the gilding
Your bit-part has been cast
And we should put up and shut up
It's character building (it's character building)
It's character building (it's character building)
It's character building (it's character building)
Ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha
Prop me up in a greasy spoon
Under an English summer pale moon
Another desperate breakfast out of the
Out of the rains of June
