He come 'round for the afterparty Got a reception more than hearty Well No Wonder - here he was Our city's most prominent martyr Who stuck needles in his arms While you and I still stuck to smarties And who taught us all 'bout poetry and how to pick up birds He who hung on to his pathos While other s**ers saved and earned And the underground would love him in return He came 'round for the afterparty Got a reception more than hearty So he took a loop around and then he slouched into an armchair And there was she, yeah in a flash Like Guinevere to her king Arthur So I closed my eyes and this is what I heard: You sorry a** You sorry a** Oh! d**h to the martyrs come on, come on You sorry a** You sorry a** Oh! d**h to the martyrs come on! I remember it all clearly I remember it precise How he fixed me with his stare And looked me right into the eyes Saying "Me, I'm no machine! No I defy the nine to five" Now forgive me, I concidered it both Radical and wise But for God's sake I was 14 at the time! You sorry a** You sorry a** Oh! d**h to the martyrs come on, come on You sorry a** You sorry a** Oh! d**h to the martyrs come on! Now you who are so grand Who claim you built the fundaments On which I stand, you are the man But you preferred the gentle fan I was before But now it's time to be unkind To speak my mind And if you ask why I'm so blunt It's 'cause I care for you, You c*nt! You're no longer wild at heart You're just a boring junkie fart And if you really wanna die alright then Die, then you old tart! So I walked across the dancefloor Until I was in his sight And I opened up and this is what came out: You sorry a** You sorry a** Oh! d**h to the martyrs come on, come on You sorry a** You sorry a** Oh! d**h to the martyrs come on!