The Blood Brothers Lyrics
Crimes

There's a fire on
Junk Island where
they send their garbage
is anybody listening?

After work we'll watch
the seagulls diving in
and out of the lashing towers of flame.

It twinkles like a pile
of rotting jewels left
to bake in the sun.
Is anybody listening?

We're just like
those condom
wrappers: used up
torn up
thrown away.
And we're just like
yesterday's headlines:
drifting, floating, towards the blaze.

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If we rob the
liquor store we could
be in Tijuana by the crack of dawn.
If we rob the
mayor's mansion
we could pawn his modern art
and make a fortune.
If we rob the lonely widow
we could steal her credit cards
and buy a cottage by the ocean.
And we could swim out to
Junk Island we'll burn up
like the seagulls
and the whiskey bottles.

We're scrapped valentines.
We're tangerine rinds.
We're crimes, crimes,
crimes, crimes, crimes.
[x4]

And the children
in the subway
eating apple cores.
Is anybody listening?
They're breathing paint
out of plastic bags.
Their mumbled mouths say:
"Is anybody listening?"