holy
place if you see things that way
Then they rattle the bones
and the analysts play
From his backward collar on
a worn out book
Another working class poet
with an abstract look
So take me up to the edge of the world
And push me over again
Lead me up to the edge of the world
There comes a time
Now, shake your hair and rattle your cans
It's a service funded by
a self- made man
Talks to victims and industrial spies
He feeds you tobacco for
the four- minute mile
So take me up to the edge of the world
And push me over again
Lead me up to the edge of the world
There comes a time
With some strange god and
a good right hand
We can chase the ghost
from the promised land
If the promised land turns out as it should
We can flood the place with consumer
goods
When the African general
meets the bingo queen
And the collective farmer
joins the teenage dream
When the miracle worker
saves the chat show host
And the caveman paints
another holy ghost
So take me up to the edge of the world
And push me over again
Lead me up to the edge of the world
There comes a time
So take me up to the edge of the world
And push me over again
Lead me up to the edge of the world
There comes a time
We can storm the walls in
our leisure wear
While we trap the beast in his stormy lair
Then we'll smooth his image
and we'll save his soul
While we fill our schools with
the gold we stole
With some strange god
and a good right hand
We can chase the ghost
from the promised land
If the promised land turns
out as it should
We can flood the place with consumer goods