I heard the song birds singing in the trees above my 
bed
In the valley of the shadow of the sea of living dead
I see the same old smells aboard my ship of 
shapelessness
Meandering suspended in amorphous tastelessness 

I hear the happy people striking down their matchless 
road
The false teeth and the cologne partly sharing half the 
load
I know I cannot ask them so I leave their eyes to say
I know the way to Mount Street, but I just don't know 
the way
I see the hollow buildings hanging in the winter sun
Throwing empty shadows that hide the hollow men
The world just isn't real it's built on endless 
timeless time
on land marks in the desert wastes of multicoloured 
crime 

The maps stuck in the tube trains will tell you 
where're you going
They'll also tell you pratically everything worth 
knowing
So if anybody asks me I'd say "take a few salt sodas"
If you don't you stand the dirty change of dying stone 
cold sober 

And as I hear you breathing life's last distant 
compliment
I know I can't have said much of what I really ment
The sky desolates the sky and the snowflakes face to 
face
And everything is just everything because everything 
just is