The Promised Land

We cut our teeth on Billy's night
We threw petrol on the fire
The crowd were fish heads packed in tight
Adversity fuelled desire
Psychopathic personality girls
An installation in each hotel
Every play a lover's leap
Bones thrown to the hounds of Hell
We were slow to show our heels
We had faith in that expensive purr
Crammed into a Ford Cortina
So damp it was growing fur
We lived in Clubland
In cupboards we were big Social insecurity
The fan club at every gig
Three chords, a passport to the promised land
Where everything's recouped and there's no such thing as cash in hand
The dressing room is a matchbox
Is this any way to earn a crust?
The stage is a seducer, a doctor, A card you can not trust
Another boring interview
Pet theories in the critical zoo
Put those parasites in our shoes
And I bet they wouldn't have a clue
Three chords, a passport to the promised land
Where everything's recouped and there's no such thing as cash in hand
The promised land
The promised land
The promised land
The promised land
Promsies, promises