Neon Alleys Paroles

Rows of fucking machines crammed down needle only on alleys
High-tech biometric devices for eyes identify the foot from the flair
I wonder how different it is looking out?
Shop floor windows read no photos. Pimps look on
American tourist holds camera overhead
"Hey look there's a little redhead"
People pissing down pavement drains to come to their senses
"How much for a shag for the four of us?"
The glass door closes, the curtains come down, the iron lady does her work

Ecstasy, cocaine!
The street whispers
Beads of sweat and alcohol coalesce
A fat red face lurches forward
"How much for your hat?"
It's not for sale
"Everything has a price!"
Ecstasy...
Cocaine... We don't eat any
Licorice girls with false eye flaunts to each passer-by
One more bite of the cherry
The pimp looks on

Ecstasy, cocaine...
The street whispers
Ecstasy, cocaine...
The street whispers
Ecstasy, cocaine...
The street whispers
Ecstasy, cocaine...
The street whispers

Pass unnoticed past crooked buildings the street gets tighter
Waves of smoke-filled air entice seduce nostrils
Spark up a joint
And light up the universe
Dance giddily in the midnight moonlight
Climax in spiritual awakening
It passes like a gust of wind
Ecstasy, cocaine...
Wake up on hotel bed fully clothed
Sense a shag, mind molested
Try to piece together the night forever

Are you off to buy a drink?
I'll gi' ye a spare cider. A breast? No
I wondered which one of us was strange, probably me
"Ecstasy, cocaine." the street whispers
Rows of fucking machines crammed down needle-hole neon alleys
High-tech biometric devices for eyes identify the foot from the flair
I wonder how different it is looking out?
Shop floor windows read no photos. Pimps look on
American tourist holds camera overhead
"Hey look there's a little redhead."
People pissing down pavement drains to come to their senses
"How much for a shag for the four of us?"
As the glass door closes, the curtains come down, the iron lady does her work
Ecstasy, cocaine...
The street whispers
Beads of sweat and alcohol coalesce
A fat red face lurches forward
"How much for your hat?"
It's not for sale
"Everything has a price!" he laughs
Ecstasy...
Cocaine...

[Semi-coherent chanting including the phrases:
Children of the sun
You know the desert's coming
No-one's going to profit]

Come on!

Come on!

Come on!

Prophets of power
Am I falling into the
Side turns around the corner
I heard the speakers in the park
And all the personal sin non qua
Ah, they say they've lost their hearts
And all the docile fight this war
To the sound of Central Park
Don't be a sap militant, son
Even though we face a monster
Connect desires and reality
Now there's a radical philosophy

And all the personal sin non qua
Ah, they say they've lost their hearts
And all the docile fight this war
To the sound of Central Park