Lumps*

[Verse 1] Walk up to failure Walk up to regret Walk up to a place you’ll never forget Passed the pregnant guard Then a red paradise of dreams and scars Leg scars, arm scars, the belly scars lead by far The marks of the old country's dog The old cliche of exploitation blues No offers no young nor [?] could refuse “Welcome to Hell” She may as well say As you walk up, walk up You walk up on love on your lunch break [Verse 2] Walk up, walk up Walk up to see God, to see Sweet Jane You still smell her snatch As you trawl the accounts Flip through the company books You can say you rode the coattails of blind chance But I know that you’re itchin for romance Another lonely business cunt The kind that only knows how to pay to touch In the boardroom Your fish fingers shake hands with the top flight men Check your balls for lumps once they’ve left you What’s that itch? Is that new? Is that workin' as it’s supposed to? Am I still alive? Is she sleeping with eyes open? There’s a place for your briefcase But watch out for the wandering hands And walk up [Verse 3] Walk up You're acting like you spend your days Walking up on love on your lunch break Walk up To see God, to see Sweet Jane To pay for a new name To love on your lunch break Think about these things or just get by, [be honouring?] You're asked as you both walk past Tell me if there must [?] I suppose When the favourite catches your eye She stays quiet in her sheer relief The humiliation is almost complete They'll chalk it up to blind faith Tomorrow let them love on your fucking lunch break You're fucking gonna walk up You dirty hermitic motherfucker [All night long?]