After the Rush Hour

I am the small town linesman And you'll find me out here on the line. Searching ceaselessly to simply Find a place I can call mine. Every corner of this country Criss-crossed out with coloured lines. The city lies before me, Another city sprawling out behind. Since the Scramble ended, Since the West was won with wagon trails, It seems the Mazzini's paradisical Panopticon prevailed. My walkabouts no longet take me Beyond a choice of different gaols. Why should I have to choose a state When every one of them has failed? I am a frontiersman, Trapped in suburban England. And I promise not to overthrow the state If allowed to redraw the atlas before I emigrate. So I have sailed the seven seas alone, Trying to find a shore I can call home. But all I found are different flags, Double-speaking diplomats, and I do not have time for that. So I'll declare my own sovereign state, The borders based on the Bbottoms of my boots, And I will open embassies Wherever the hell I please, And at assemblies You will see me sat But never on my knees. And I'd glagly leave your Metternich's alone as long as where I lay my head I can be my very own. I am the Winchester lineman. I am a frontiersman, Trapped in suburban England, But here I will not remain- I'll ride into the sunset, My horse waits on the plain, And I keep walking the line. --- After the Rush Hour - Million Dead