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Why Are You Sleeping With Mr. Brown?

by The Spent Poets

on The Spent Poets (1992)

A bomb is dropped in Manchester
A plate is dropped in Persia
And somehow that means more to him than
Divided India

In his house he lives
An insect dies in dust on his floor
And somehow that means more to him than
World peace and Mother Teresa

I won't wake for anything
Are you sleeping Mr. Brown?
Don't you notice that the world is spinning 'round
Are you sleeping Mr. Brown?
Don't you notice that the world is
Spinning around

A blade of grass is growing
By the side of an iron mill
And somehow that means more to him than
All the Leonard Lakes of the world

I won't wake for anything
Are you sleeping Mr. Brown?
Don't you notice that the world is spinning 'round
Are you sleeping Mr. Brown?
Don't you notice that the world is
Spinning around