Piece it together man, you’re losing your touch
Poetry’s supposedly is a bit too much for you
Pullin words out of your ravaged mind
Dropping them into this God forsaken paper
With the pen in your hand

Walkin’ your dog down by the river ain’t your place
Think that we don’t notice the tear lines down your face?
You never had the writers touch
Hell, you never had very much
Piece it together man . . .

You never felt like you were crawling
But deep down we all knew you were
And if tomorrow you wake up and find
The family car drives over a land mine

Well who’s crawling now?

Piece it together man, you’re losing your touch
I suppose it may have been a bit too much for you
Pulled out of your homely homeland
And dropped into this God forsaken desert
With a rifle in your hand

World War Three isn’t what we were trying to build
From our United Nations chambers and EU halls
We never meant to get the bends
We never meant to make amends
Piece it together man, you’re losing your touch