Angels

(Brewster-Neeson-Brewster)
Smokers smoking in the smoking room, fishes in the fish tank
Sailors waiting for the tide to turn, too bad the ship sank
Well dressed wax-work wound up to walk
Stares through the window
Clown in the alley-way looking for an exit, facing the shadows
I don't patronise you
I dont' try to put you down
I don't criticise you
I ain't the one , I ain't the one to judge
Hard hitting journalist, says he's a communist
Says he believes in world war III
Lives in a high-rent luxury apartment, he ain't fooling me
I don't patronise you
I dont' try to put you down
I don't criticise you
I ain't the one , I ain't the one to judge
Reading the newspaers, keeping in touch
They steal your secrets, but i ain't the one to judge
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