Mr Damage
(Brewster-Neeson-Brewster)

Holding council with the King and Queen
Tryin' hard to decide the fate of the regime
There's only one thing needed to complete the harmonising
That's the man with the voice like a scraping violin
Waiting for Mr Damage

Toothless jaws gumming melancholy stuff
Burst of rapid fire Spanish from the window up above
Students out to pose in their studied disarray
Books of Sartre, Marcuse openly displayed
Waiting for Mr Damage

Chorus:
Mr Damage -- walks through the door of his sacrificial church
Mr Damage -- meets you in the lobby and he'll leave you in the lurch
Mr Damage -- stands at the altar, sermon of the search
All the faithful follow

Resident winos, stumbling and lurching
Walking cadavers, smiling and searching
Man with the DT's looking at the feeble glossy portraits
Of long dead celebrated people
Waiting for Mr Damage
  
Trying hard just to keep the candle lit
Leather flyer leaves the subway anxious to admit
That the marvelled one, so recently deposed was seen
Three days later in a brand new suit of clothes
Brand new suit of clothes for a very special day
Brand new suit of clothes for a very special day
Brand new suit of clothes for a very special day
Very special day, a very special day
Very, very, very special day
    
Mr Damage holds a curse!
Mr Damage drives a hearse!
Don't you know who did it first?
Mr Damage

Holding frozen hands as Mr Damage holds the curse

==============================================================

Take A Long Line
(Brewster-Neeson-Brewster)

He was selling post cards from a paper stand
whiskey bottle in his withered hand
He put his finger on a photo from an old magazine
Saw himself in the shadow of his dream

Found him with his head inside a tin-pot crown
Told him his feet stank and took him downtown
Called him agitator, spy and thief
Shut him up solitary third degree

Chorus:
Take a long line, take a long line
Take a long line reel him in

He tried to appeal to the king of might
He said "I'm just exercisin' my sacred right"
The king he said "You ain't got no rights
You're a mad man, traitor get outta my sight"

Chorus

Found him with his head inside a tin-pot crown
Told him his feet stank and took him downtown
Called him agitator, spy and thief
Shut him up solitary third degree

Well they put him aboard a well wound whirlwind
Pulled out his teeth and they told him to grin
He gave them a smile, pulled out a bottle of wine
He said I never existed you been wasting your time

Chorus