---

He was standing on the Headrow
with a halo on his head
And the rain fell around him
And he wished he was in bed

And he wished the 47
would stop by his side
And carry him back
to his freezing bride

And the wind blows cold over there
And it's hard
when you can't climb the stair
And the women of the town stake you
down to the ground by your hair

Mary came from Ireland
She thought she'd cheer him up
She put sugar in his coffee
And milk in his cup

But he liked his coffee black
with no sugar and no spoon
So he ran out to the motorway
and locked her in his room

He thought he'd make a dash
for the country and the stars
So he set out to climb
the heaps of rusting cars

He threw away his whips
He threw away his pills
And the last time I saw him
he was headed for the hills

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