Mott The Hoople
The Moon Upstairs
My brother, he was a drinking man
And I asked him for relief
He said this won't do you no good
And he sent the police
They busted me for nothing
'Cause they said I was insane
And so they let my body go
But they locked away my brain
Well, I wandered freely as a bird that had broken both its wings
And I hated them and they hated me and I hated everything
And I realise that to survive, well, my body is not mine
I feel neglected, feel rejected, living in the wrong time
And to those of you who always laugh
Let this be your epitaph
And my head is down and I'm called a clown by comedians that grace
The living stage and every page of worthless meaningless space
But I swear to you before we're though, you're gonna feel our every blow
We ain't bleeding, you we're feeding you, but you're too fucking slow
And to those of you who always laugh
Let this be your epitaph