The New Man - Theatre Of Tragedy

Broken bottles, and a broken nose

No reason not to lounge in a pose

I could stand in shade light and laugh at you

You were wrong — it’s happened to you too

This is the new circuit

Tell me of your pain

'Shove you around?', now close the door

This is not love

This is my sort of softly touching you

A Brownian motion of whacks on your face

'Who are you?'

Hat-stand man-man in a fancy suit

He’s a laugh, it’s him and Jim and his prostitute

Gold teeth spat out onto the concrete street

Get into the car with its vinyl seats

This is the new circuit

Tell me of your pain

'Shove you around?', now close the door

This is not love

This is my sort of softly touching you

A Brownian motion of whacks on your face

'who are you?'

This is not the new man

'who are you?'

This is not the new man

This is not love