Tiny tastemakers and sandcastle kings
Living in grand houses, stained glass from broken dreams
They run the numbers and the racket all over town
From the waterfront to the whore house, at the dog tracks they move the White & the Brown
They've got it locked down, there's nowhere else to go

See the sad houses there at the foot of the hill
They used to stand in someone's sunshine, now they lean in weeds and remember
All up the pavement in single file, see the shuffling bereavement of the L.S. Lowry people
They float about in their tatterdemalion nests
Bundled up together, in bleak with tired regret

Pay the gatekeeper push your nose right up to the gate
See the on-trend go-betweeners, playlisting the latest hot-takes
Sick psychic vampires waiting for the product to come
I've been working at the blood bank, submitting my heart on a pump
Running in circles, chasing my tail for a taste
Still taking it personal, in a fish-bowl with a million else

Here comes The Governer with his industry insider chic
He's a haircut full of buzz-words, like a fly around shit
His lips let slip what his eyes deny
He condescends but never lightly
Often when beaten he'll lessen the ploy
Like a wolf playing dead - like Ali did
Red rag to my bullish interior
Red rag! Red rag!

See the men in the middle, pushing paper and closing the deal
See the fly land on the flower to no avail
Fucking bottom-feeders, end of the alphabet males
Girls in white Adidas with rainbow-painted nails
Tiny tastemakers and sandcastle kings
Living in, living in, living in glass houses