Over the Wire
(Sullivan/Heaton)
Behind all the rusting cranes, in the lengthening shadows of the Empire days
there's a world that waits, but it's not needed . . .
In the teeming rows behind the goal yelling for blood on the pitch below;
where does all the passion go when it's not needed?
Over the wire, and into the darkness . . .
Come evangelists of the Grand New Age proclaiming the future that they stole,
condemning the things they can't control - just like the priests before;
and now I can hear them call the ghosts of the 1914-18 war . . .
Where do all the innocents go when they're not needed?
Over the wire and into the darkness . . .
And the dawn it will come like blood across the sky,
Not the way that you think, not the way that you dream . . .
In the silence of God, in the fullness of time,
like blood across the sky - the dawn it will come - the dawn it will come . . .
All still, like the pitshafts and the two-mile-down where they buried their hearts;
where does all the loyalty go when it's not needed?
In the plastic seats behind the goal yelling for blood on the pitch below;
where does all the passion go when it's not needed?
Over the wire and into the darkness . . .