This is for the messed up kids bound like dynamite,
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The wandering drunks out on the town tonight,
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For the romantic killer that’s never been caught,
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For the crackpot who hit the jackpot and stopped.
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This is those who climb right to the top,
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Just to feel what it’s like to drop,
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For the critical mass that converges,
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For the pedophile suppressing his urges.
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This is for the soldier in contempt of court,
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Cause he believed in freedom of thought.
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This is for the baby who struggles to talk,
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But can manage to gargle the language of God.
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This is for the origami swan,
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Who dared to soar up to the sun.
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This is for the outcasts, the freaks and the schemers,
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The Last Of The Dreamers
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| The King Blues |
