Ten men stand in line
At the gates of the cemetery on tuesday morning
They’re not open today
And ten moms stand in line
At maternity ward
They’re not bringin’ no babies out to play
Anytime today
What’s a nice girl like you doin’
Walkin’ around this part of town?
See you sometime tomorrow
And ten men stand in line
Waitin’ for some personality to be put out on the corner
Today ain’t garbage day
Ain’t no grabage taken today
Oh get down, getting down, so much money in the ground
For the people who don’t deserve it now
It’s a circus we’re the clowns as the giant ones disown
Every bit of something we call home
Said it’s a pity ‘bout the middle class holden mass
We get a bit to play around with doesn’t really matter
They kid us with their dole, kid us with the dope
But generally speaking, nobody’s got a hope
We’re playing the music of the middle-aged queens
Getting fatter and fatter and splitting their jeans
It’s all the same, we’re out in the cold
The good ones died, the others just got old
Everything’s set, everything’s fine
You just got to stand in line
Oh everything’s set, everything’s fine
You just got to stand in line
Getting down, getting down, we have to make it now
Everybody’s beaten, everybody’s down, oh everybody’s down
So goodbye to the creeps who are making it
Goodbye to the let it happen stand
I’m moving out got no doubt they’ve forgettn twist ‘n’ shout
They never ever listen to the man
(moginie/hirst/rotsey/garrett)
Wait my turn
Waste my time
Stand in line
Passing through
Passing by
Stand in line
Stand in line
Holding on
Holding on
Stand in line
Stand in line
Stand in line
Stand in line
Wait my turn
Waste my time
Stand in line
Stand in line
Stand in line
Stand in line
Stand in line
Standing like a statue waiting for the train
In front of the cigarette vendor
Slicking back his hair looking at the machine
Reflecting like a mirror
Pulling up his collar to avoid the breeze
Of the oncoming bullet
Taking inventory of the things he needs,
He’s checking out his wallet
Standing before our eyes straight and tall
*Here comes your hero, stand in line,
Straight as an arrow, stand in line
The mother’s son, as perfect as his pompadour
A Spanish-American lover
Heading from the East into West LA
He has to dance La Bamba
So sophisticated is the French cologne
He borrowed from his father
Just another pistol, waiting for someone
To come and pull the trigger
So let his bullet fly through the air…
He’ll take you home, stand in line,
If you deserve him, stand in line
(Repeat *)
That perfect stranger, stand in line
IF you deserve him, stand in line
(Repeat *)
