This Song Has No Title

Tune me in to the wild side of life

I'm an innocent young child, sharp as a knife

Take me to the garrets where the artists die

Show me the courtrooms where the judges lie

Let me drink deeply from the water and the wine

Like coloured candles in dark, dreary mines

Look in the mirror and stare at myself

Wonder if that's really me on the shelf

And each day I've learned just a little bit more

I don't know how, but I do know what for

If we're all goin' somewhere, let's get there soon

Oh, this song's got no title, just words and a tune

Take me down alleys where the murders are done

In a vast high-powered rocket to the core of the sun

Want to read books in the studies of men

Born on the breeze and die on the wind

If I was an artist who paints with his eyes

I'd study my subject and silently cry

Cry for the darkness to come down on me

For confusion to carry on, turnin' the wheel

And each day I've learned just a little bit more

I don't know how, but I do know what for

If we're all goin' somewhere, let's get there soon

Oh, this song's got no title, just words and a tune