Black Saloons

I'm in the air, I'm in the lair, the central peak, the summit
the monument, the big moment
the pinnacle achieved, where it's all electric
gleaming, diamond, crystalline, insured, privilege stores
I don't care, take me anywhere
take me anywhere
Back in the lair, police are everywhere
the gliders stand parked by a fleet of black saloons
the riders are gazing longingly at the moon
the black clothed riders ride where no-one rides
their pay packets fat, golden caps, smelling of rye, torpedoes and pride
and it's none of your business where they ride
In a cement, carnal, container car, where the groups are the strangest yet
he slaps his belt on the backs of demure lads and lassies, the lackeys
who aspire to his cameo, chameleon roles
they don't mind cos they're gonna grow old
I don't care, I don't care
There's a special number you can ring, where you won't hear a thing
there's a special place you can go, to kneel down, hang yourself
Slash your wrists! Call a doctor! And then another trip to the butcher
The guitars and the organs and the horns sound, and the drums pound
learn to love people's blood
then throw them away with a flick of your hand