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Paradise Behind Barbed Wire

 

Glastonbury TorThe sword is turning
And the caretaker coughs.
Something is burning
That we forgot to switch off.
She comes from a good home,
She’s got the Moët on ice.
She whistles Like a Rolling Stone
While she reruns Miami Vice.
Put another rock on the fire.
There’s paradise behind barbed wire.

Salt where you bleed, sir,
And there’ll be honey for tea.
Your dog is a pizza
But you still get the fleas.
Gave all she could give –
I hate to mention the price:
One pound of flesh, I believe;
Now you want your second slice.
Kiss me with the tongue of a liar.
There’s paradise behind barbed wire.

Some day all of this will be yours,
Meanwhile you can stay on all fours.
Remind me to rewind and pause
The wide-open jaws
Of paradise behind barbed wire.

Freefalling angels
Asleep in a cardboard box
Where the kind hands of strangers
Strip the hands off all the clocks.
Now the one love is tainted,
You try everything twice,
So let’s get acquainted
With the judgment of the dice.
Put me in the heavenly choir:
I’m a workman worthy of hire
In the marketplace for a buyer.
I move mountains and sink in the mire
Of paradise behind barbed wire.

 

© John Gibbens & Armorel Weston 2003

 

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