Crimes - Alt Version

There's a fire on
Junk Island, where,
They send their garbage
Is anybody listening?

After work we'll watch
The seagulls, diving in
And out of the lashing towers of flame

It twinkles like a pile
Of rotting jewels, left
To bake in the sun
Is anybody listening?

We're just like those condom wrappers:
Used up, torn up, thrown away
And we're just like yesterday's headlines:
Drifting, floating, towards the blaze

And if we rob the
Liquor store we, could
Be in Tijuana by the crack of dawn
If we rob the
Mayor's mansion,
We could pawn his modern art and make a fortune
If we rob the lonely widow,
We could steal her credit cards
And buy a cottage by the ocean
And we could swim out to Junk Island we'll burn up like the seagulls
And the whiskey bottles

We're scrapped valentines,
We're tangerine rinds,
We're crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes

And the children,
In the subway,
Eating apple cores
Is anybody listening?
They're breathing paint out of plastic bags,
Their mumbled mouths say:
"Is anybody listening?"