[Verse 1]
The dream police, slogan, "what is on your mind?"
The airwave boys, junkies won't get radio time
The purist league, white trench coats in pre-war style
The ageing queens, mister, won't you stay a while?

[Verse 2]
In death row with Harlow and others like you
I point my finger of hate at your picture
And love you, and love you
The radio is talking, is it you or me?
I must admit, it's far too late to dial police

[Verse 3]
What is your name? We are the end of the line
Her eyes went out, dreaming "overdose on time"
Hey you, old grey eyes, don't practice dying for real
The only one, September, she knows I can feel