Like a crow on a motorway
Picking at scabs
Sees red when a blackleg
Drives past in a cab
Like men in blue suits
With their sticks in their hands
And their feathers in their caps
Like fighting for blackstuff
Like staying alive
Like a union of crows
Their funds bled dry
And bossmen in Lorries
Are crossing the line
It s only real when it hurts
You can trust when it hurts
You know now it s been
Feeling the pinch
Wakes up from a dream
Trust how it hurts
Trust what you feel
Feeling the pinch
Wakes you up
Like a crow on barbed wire
We re the enemy within
Like an unanswered phone call
Where running again
Like a picking bone
There s a hook in your brain .
Like a ghost town valley
Like duct on a sheet
Like a cold empty shop
On a cold empty street
Like the crowd gathers round
When the ambulance screams
Your only real when you bleed.
Writer(s): David Bennett, Richard Swales, Frances Sansom, Michael Shenton
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