David Bowie - A Small Plot Of Land Lyrics

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Poor soul 
Spit upon that 
Poor soul 
He never knew what hit him 
And it hit him so 

Poor dunce 
He pushed back the pigmen 
The Barbs laughed 
The fool is dead 

Poor dunce 
He's less than within us 
The brains talk 
But the will to live is dead 
And prayer can't travel so far these days 
The talk of your life 
Standing so near 
To innocent eyes 
Poor dunce 

Swings through the tunnels 
And claws his way 
Is small life so manic 
Are these really the days 

Poor dunce 
Poor dunce 

Poor soul 
Poor soul 
Poor soul

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lyrics submitted by Jolanda K.