Slag Heap

When I fall to sleep here
I wake up in Spain
When I go to bed there
I open my eyes here again

Can't dread the unravel
Of time and space without warning
I take the bed when I travel
All the way to the morning
Waking up in La Ancampada

Now number one gets the finger
Post calculation
Numb and stunned in linger
Most in consolation
But no one is 100 percent sure anymore
Only 99 percent will have to do

Slag it off, slag it off
Wake up in the gutter during running of the bulls
Reciting in stutter, a whole new set of rules
Slag it off

Echo, echo

Economical plummet for the poor proletarian
On the eve of the next summit, the lonely totalitarian
Drenched in anxiety and soaked with exasperate
Then waking up in Spain like any old expat

Slag it off, slag it off
Running with the bulls, waking in that spatter
Making up the rules and acting like it matters
Slag it off

When I go to sleep here
Me despierto en Espana