Lyrics:
the chaplain go and polish his tombs Lying on the wasteground with a blanket on his face Indicating that he's left the human race Helmet open where
From the playground to the wasteground Hope ends at 17 - Sweeping floors and filling shelves Forced into government schemes - 11 years spent
From the playground to the wasteground Hope ends at 17 - Sweeping floors and filling shelves Forced into government schemes - 11 years spent to dig
nest whistle at their best but a song's a song for all one's worth a song's a song far away from the wasteground let me hear some sweet sounds jittery
No-one's seen, no-one's told the Joy Poet he's drowning Going down, down, down, down Beaches and wastegrounds washed by poisoned seas The old man lives
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