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THE WALL |
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Like
the skin of a dying man Night
after night, we pretend it's all right But
I have grown older and You
have grown colder and Nothing
is very much fun any more And
I can feel one of my turns coming on I
feel cold as a razor blade Tight
as a tourniquet Dry
as a funeral drum Run
to the bedroom, in this suitcase on the left You'll
find my favourite axe Don't
look so frightened This
is just a passing phase Just
one of my bad days Would
you like to watch T.V.? Or
get between the sheets? Or
contemplate the silent freeway? Would
you like something to eat? Would
you like to learn to fly? Would
you like to see me try? Would
you like to call the cops? Do
you think it's time I stopped? Why
are you running away? |
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