A Corner Boy’s Lament (Live in New York city)

I want to dedicate this song to Ian Brown, a friend of mine who uh who passed away in the last few days
I want to send the energy up towards him
As he makes his way

There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you
When I die, I intend to walk alone
Through the streets where the corner boys commend me
For making peace with the inner child from the mobile home

Oh I am handing back the medals that you pinned to my chest
We’re at war, it’s not safer in the open
And the padlock you’re wearing around your neck is a target
For the cold, hungry halfwits at dawn
Who are struggling to compose another drinking song

I feel safe amongst the hawkers and the gawkers
Telling stories scribbled down on decks of cards
Flicking marbles through a mud-stained maze of secondhand ideas
You draw a drag whilst admiring the sweet heads
Of a city in the morning by Jack B. Yeats

Who’s that at the door?
That’s only reality
Sure, let him in
Make sure he wipes his feet clean
Let us dissect the words from the markets and the factories
Bring me two glasses, there is work to be done
Fetch me two glasses, there is work to be done

Let us compare mothers and the madness in their methods
Let us compare fathers and the shape of their jawlines
Let us compare regretful sexual encounters
Let us compares addictions past and present
Let us compare voices that dance in our heads
Let us make a pact now, oh let us spit in our hands
Let us compare songs that we wish we had written
Let us console one another

There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you
When I die, I intend to walk alone
Through the streets where the corner boys salute me
For making peace with the inner child from the mobile home
For losing sleep with the inner child from the mobile home
For counting sheep with the inner child from the mobile home

Thank you!