There's a brown shirt swapped for a thin blue tie

There's a black truth swapped for a thin blue lie

There's a slim man sporting a clean-cut dream

There's a slim man courting a wide, extreme

There's a fly-blown flag in a dry-bone town

There will be no ships because they've all gone down

There's a man with a medal, but he'll never sleep

There are guns in his head, they say the war was cheap

There are heaped-up dreams on the mounds of slag

There are moped-up tears as the hours drag

There's a suitcase gone, and there's an empty drawer

There's a broken cup lying on the floor

There are questions asked in the house tonight

There's a wife been involved in a pillow fight

There's a husband there who she hardly knows

There's a patched up dream for a winter rose

There's a soft touch finally come to blows