|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Look Away © Copyright George Papavgeris, October 2002 I know people like that. I have been like that. And God help me, perhaps I still am, sometimes. You pass him each day as you walk down the street Clothes stuffed with newspaper and rags on his feet And your eyes do their best his eyes not to meet 'Cos you don't want to know what he's feeling. He could be your brother, he could be your son But he doesn't belong in your life's master plan And closed are your ears to what he has to say Look away now, look away. Your coffee and paper are there on the desk The shares and the sportspages you 'll study first A pensioner burgled was, raped and the rest But that story you'll skip altogether. She could be your mother, she could be your wife But all that is part of some other mug's life "She should be more careful" is all you will say Look away now, look away. Another explosion in some busy street Yet more infidels gone their maker to meet More bodies are covered from head to their feet And religion once more is the reason. But stories and photographs leave you stone cold For that is the business of some other God Your conscience is clear as the paper you fold Look away now, look away. You lock up the office and head for the door The young man still there, keep your eyes on the floor Though he has not moved since this morning at all And his face is a funny old colour. You could stop to check if he's feeling OK But no time for this, it's the end of the day Your train you might miss, and there'll be hell to pay Look away now, look away. CHORUS Look away now, look away And don't talk of misery, pain and decay But where will you hide when it's your turn to pay Look away now, look away. |
You can buy George's albums directly with PayPal secure payment
George's CDs are manufactured by Bump Studios
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
