Here in the throwaway where
the day wastes its sunlight.
and the night is a blemish that
erupts on the face of the Town.
The corrupted and vile,
given an inch,take a mile and
the priests are nowhere to be seen.

The only Chapter house dean,a
hell's angel from Cheam is pretending so hard
to be hard
but it's a dot on the card, that
he goes home to his life
with a big motor home,four kids
and a wife he can't stand.

In the land of the castle keep view,
there are few who are
what they seem.
if we lean to the left or the right we
become another throwaway,
another scab on the face of the night.

Jehovah comes calling to
witness
this fall in the falling of man but
pretends not to see,
I wonder if he really cares about me.

In the throwaway, the day stumbles on
any hope that remains
is long gone,
It's just one more town going down and
I wonder if he really cares.