Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
Andy Partridge
How bright are the fires of thought
In a chain of command
How bright is the medical torch
When it's put in our hand
My microbes and I
Can't wait to lay down and die
We realise that we must be spent
Like the cells that dissolve when a brainwave is sent
How bright are the fires of thought
In a chain of command
My bloodgroup and me
A body of soldiers are we
To the wound we quickly flowed
And we fought with the weapons in our
Chemical code
How bright are the fires of thought
In a chain of command