off the aeroplane
meeting me is christ
he doesn't say a word
he only fries rice

useless tables
are useless politicians  
they should be practical
but you can't throw them in the chipper

i'm in-between cupboards
and in-between wards
playing drunk on the piano
so i'm not drafted into war

born sick
and commanded to be well
asking jesus for the secrets
that the useless **** cannot tell

back on the aeroplane
which only now is a spitfire
i'll see you all in newyork
and with all our hearts tired