Lyrics David Keenan – Unholy Ghosts

I was gifted a book by somebody who loved me
About a man who got even with God
Sat in hyperactive London’s cold Central Station
The city began sleeping like a dog

Then a tramp with one eye placed his hand on my thigh
I said, «Hold it. Pick a window. You’re leaving.»
«Oh, do forgive me,» he sighed
«I was a fan in my prime.»
He must’ve thought I was somebody else

Here’s to the fathers of the lost sons and the unholy ghosts
It’s the ones that seem destined to get left behind
Interest me the most

On a street you’ve never heard of there’s a wooden piano
On its last legs in a last chance saloon
It is manned by a drunkard who is dripping with poetry
Sitting stupefied, nailed to the stool
The man catches my gaze then produces this page
From his waistcoat with a slip disk smile

«Look boy, here is my last correspondence with Christ.»
I tried to read it, but my glasses were filthy

Here’s to the fathers of the lost sons and the unholy ghosts
It’s the ones who seem destined to get left behind
Interest me the most
I am the prodigal son, resting his head on the drum
That was carried through the welcoming parade
And I’d give all I have
Sure, I’d give all I have
Strip me bare, let me wash in the rains

Past the government housing, right off Donaldson road
Open collars and open hearts

You know it comes at a cost
Or so the great unwashed have informed me
And I tend to believe them these days

Here’s to the fathers of the lost sons and the unholy ghosts
It’s the ones that seem destined to get left behind
Interest me the most
I am the prodigal son, resting his head on the drum
That was carried through the welcoming parade
And I’d give all I have
I would give all I have
Strip me bare, let me wash in the rains

Strip me bare, let me wash in the rains
Or something freeing like that anyway

I was gifted a book by somebody who loved me
About a man who got even with God