Well, my brother, he was a drinking man and I asked him for release

He said, ?This won't do you no good, and sent for the police"

Well, they busted me for nothing, 'cos they said, I was insane

So, they let my body go, but they locked away my brain

Well, I wandered freely as a bird that had broken both it's wings

And I hated them and they hated me, and I hated everything

And I realize that to survive, well, my body is not mine

And I feel neglected feel rejected, living in the wrong time

And to those of you who always laugh

Let this be your epitaph

And my head is down and I'm called a clown by comedians that grace

The living stage of every page of worthless meaningless space

But I swear to you before we're though you're gonna feel our every blow

We ain't bleeding you we're feeding you but you're too fucking slow

And to those of you who always laugh

Let this be your epitaph Writer/s: Ian Hunter, MICHAEL RALPHS
Publisher: BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
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