Chatterton

Chatterton is hangin' out on Forty Second Street
Just another youth who found that truth gets trampled underneath your feet

Chatterton is going 'round all those corridors of power
To show his works to coked-out jerks, who never could smell a perfect flower

Chatterton is dancing, with the spirit in his eyes, and he's waiting to communicate, but no-one seems inclined to try

It's over now, the pain has gone, the love comes later
Far beyond the struggle to be recognised by all the so-called great and wisе

But inspiration never dies, thе hope lives on in those young men's eyes, no inspiration never dies - the hope lives on in all those young men's eyes

Chatterton is walking on a wild deserted beach
Where the oil and foam have found a home, like love polluted, out of reach

Chatterton is drinking in a another Soho bar and he's bouncing thoughts of those who ought to know just who and what they are

Chatterton is lying beneath an open window, once so fine and young
'til those bells were rung across a green and empty meadow

It's over now, the pain has gone, the love comes later
Far beyond the struggle to be recognised by all the so-called great and wise

But inspiration never dies, the hope lives on in those young men's eyes, no, inspiration never dies - the hope lives on in all those young men's eyes