The moon is pulling faces
The clouds are on the rise
The night blinks away a few more stars
And rubs its tired eyes
Theres a ticking of a clock, boys
Theres one more hour to kill
See, theres a warrant out for the pasts arrest
Down in Hooligansville
And theyve been building their little box homes
Paving the earth with black
And rhapsodising innocence
Its never coming back
Its a faded invitation
On a peeling window-sill
Theres always someone else to take the blame
Down in Hooligansville
Theres a lot of broken swings
A lot of junk too
A lot of reckoning
Left to do
When youre falling
You all fall so far
Cause no amount of wishing
Can get you out of where you are
Theyve got angels in the doorways
Shakin empty cups
All the fairy stories they still tell
Will never be enough
And there is evidence of dreams
And the wishes that they spill
But theyll leave them there to stain the streets
Down in Hooligansville
So roll out the barrel, boys
Kill the music now
Silence the prophets who have never told
Good fortunes anyhow
Bow down to your fate, boys
Now even the tide is still
Cause youll walk a hundred miles and still wont find
Your way out of Hooligansville
Youll walk a hundred miles and still wont find
Your way out of Hooligansville
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