He was standing on the Headrow with
a halo on his head And the rain fell
around him And he wished he was in bed
And he wished the 47 would stop by
his side And carry him back to his
freezing bride
And the wind blows cold over there And
it's hard when you can't climb the stair And
the women of the town stake you down
to the ground by your hair
Mary came from Ireland She thought
she'd cheer him up She put sugar in his
coffee And milk in his cup
But he liked his coffee black with
no sugar and no spoon So he ran out to
the motorway and locked her in his room
He thought he'd make a dash for the
country and the stars So he set out to
climb the heaps of rusting cars
He threw away his whips He threw away
his pills And the last time I saw him
he was headed for the hills
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