The Land Of Lost Souls
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In the land of lost souls, they stagger for the light
There is never any clue, just pictures in black & blue
They hang weights on your mind, grind your face into the ground
Your hands are never clean, in the land of lost souls

And then they march up your street & later on they march down
And to get the picture clear, they do it once again
In the land of lost souls, you crawl from hole to hole
And if it gets you down, you do it once again

And the future comes on time, like clockwork every day
In the land of lost souls
In the land of lost souls

Words & Music: David Parkin
1984