Sparrows Hill

On Sparrows hill

Beyond the river, fragments glittering

Where comrades seem to be gathering

Way beyond the exhaled gaze

On the open roads they're everywhere

Timeless like a Cubist in Paris

Or a rockabillist down in Memphis

Surely fond of being awake

To stimulate they're everywhere

In some London field

Upon the waters of grief's shattering

Where comatose nuns seem to be littering

The place with syllables of ancient names

And in their books they're everywhere

Cops everywhere

All in order, all is there

Got to make the lady's bed

Can't you see they're everywhere

Your f-hole seems to be bickering

And your father's horse he likes swimming

Your father's whores they like to swim

And your father knows they're everywhere

All in order, all is there

Got to make the lady's bed

Got to make the lady's bed

Got to make the lady's bed