The Hobos - Perfect Solution lyrics

Short-cut to the way back Wound up down the street where Intoxicated bums kissed your bride True love was supposed to beat The tambourine in a church where the monks swayed But now they're gone You're sold out, you're broken down With your hands against your own monument Would you recognise Your fathers smile in your president's eyes? And would you die? Die for hatred long born Prison clothes never worn And would you cry? When you're sold out, you're broken down With your hands against your own monument Its a perfect solution So you climb through time up to cloud number nine But your stuck or stopped And no-one knows that you're f**ed up But your arms are so warm, can do me no harm Wanna ring the bell in hell of charm You're sold out, you're broken down With your hands against your own monument Well it's a perfect solution It's a perfect solution.