The Final Cut

Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes

I can barely define the shape of this moment in time

And far from flying high in clear blue skies

I'm spiralling down to the hole in the ground where I hide

If you negotiate the minefield in the drive

And beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyes

And if you make it past the shotguns in the hall

Dial the combination, open the priest hole

And if I'm in, I'll tell you

There's a kid who had a big hallucination

Making love to girls in magazines

He wonders if you're sleeping with your new-found faith

Could anybody love him, or is it just a crazy dream?

And if I show you my dark side

Will you still hold me tonight?

And if I open my heart to you, show you my weak side

What would you do?

Would you sell your story to Rolling Stone?

Would you take the children away and leave me alone

And smile in reassurance, as you whisper down the phone?

Would you send me packing

Or would you take me home?

Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings

Thought I oughta tear the curtain down

I held the blade in trembling hands

Prepared to make it, but

Just then the phone rang

I never had the nerve to make the final cut