there's a brown shirt swapped for a thin blue tie   there's a black truth swapped for a thin blue lie   there's a slim man courting a clean cut dream   there's a slim man courting a wide extreme   there's a fly-brown flag in a dry-bone town   there will be no ships because they've all gone down   there's a man with a medal but he'll never sleep   there are guns in his head, they say the war was cheap   there are heaped up dreams on the mounds of slag   there are moped up tears as the hours drag   there's suitcase gone and there's an empty drawer   there's a broken cup lying on the floor   there are questions asked in the house tonight   there's a wife involved in a pillow fight   there's a husband there who she hardly knows   there's a patched up dream for a winter rose   there's a soft touch finally come to blows