Utopia

The air in Utopia's poisoned
The white city's old and grey
And the house feels a little emptier
Now that her children have gone away

To where the fat cats prowl the dancing halls
And their awkward hips doth sway
And their dirty fingers caress her slowly
Searching for the vein

The fever of last year
Weighs heavy on your lungs
As you lose grip of the notion that
One day your saviour will come

But these broken hands will hold you
Keep your head above the wave
As you slip back to the comfort of
That all too familiar place

Of tea cups and cheap cocaine
Soviet vodka and lemonade
Whips that crack like thunder and
After comes the rain



Credits
Writer(s): Joe Sansom
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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