Atlas (McGuinness Eugene)

I met a mixer He talked the head off my throat He was built for the mountains But lived in a shoebox in Soho Strange as it sounds I didn't want dear motor-mouth to go Sara points to Paris Sara seems to sink in sorrow In the uproar of drunk dragons A single sudden move and we're toast We're all mortals prone to hurt Crushed berries in the dirt I know But this world's your world This world's your world to roam This land's your land I understand but I want to go home I want to go home Another rhubarbing barfly A zombie on a fruit machine Where the wallpaper reminds me Of a funeral from 2003 There's a town On a river On a planet On the shoulders of me But this world's your world This world's your world to roam This land's your land I understand but I want to go home I want to go home