Sentimental Marching Song

In the barber's shop
In the game
In the lair of the wrinkled old worm
All men the same
All men the same born to brutalise
On every scale on every scale
I'm skipping down the iron line
Cocooned in a fist
I;m running throught the tension rods
Never kissed
So stop all that moaning and sing
Along with the sirens outside
I'll be over at ten we can take a ride
The beast lurches into the road breathing deep
Buckets of brains
The room's full of sleep
He needs a little love at closing time