Texty: New Model Army. R.I.P.

This all started the way things do with a laugh and a cup of tea
Around the fire as we sheltered from those wicked winds in front
Of that old TV and we traded ideas as we watched each other
With those ambitious bright eyes those eyes that saw
Every detail of the world so clear

And we bided our time impatiently until the hunger
Really burned and the softest sweetest kisses
Were lost amidst the thunder in our hearts

We watched the people round us getting up, getting on, getting old
But the game we were going to play so well, we'd get to stay young forever
To begin with they just smiled and stepped around our little fire
But remember how pretty soon that all began to change

But now bitter in this great city all the little children should go home
Because the big men want to make deals, when they find
You've got something they want, the party's gone, the party's done
The party's over children, you'd better go home

Funny how they all come running if you let your pockets jangle a little
And there's that strange queasy feeling, every time someone holds
A door open for you, such sweetness, such kindness
While they maneuver you into position and we all know
How hard it is to bite the hand that feeds you

Remember all those old films we used to watch every Friday night on TV
However fast you run, however slow the Mummy walks it always catches
You in the end, the party's gone, the party's done, the party's over
Children, you'd better go home

This ain't no place anymore for little girls or little boys
Not unless you want them to spoon-feed you all your life
The party's gone, the party's done, the party's over children
This dream is gone, this dream is dead, this dream is over
Children you'd better go home