Marc Almond The Hustler
Over there In the cold Stands the Hustler His eyes are old He has seen a million ugly scenes Places where men droop with mould The backrooms Where soiled goods are sold Seen with opened eyes since frail fifteen He has found it hard at first But on his brow there sits a curse For when the young must suffer At the hands of men Memories of Christmas past Were never there to ever last Things as were can never Be again Over there By the wall Stands the Hustler He's not very tall He's trampled by the jaded by the sly He's seen the darker side of men First fascinated and then He found his urge to laugh An urge to cry He'll find close friends No friend at all He feels so lonely, tired and small How few are chosen from The golden call There's something in us all it seems To crave adventure Hunt for dreams But corruption the seducer spoils our schemes And surely as the snow will melt The Hustler Grabs his soul and heads for home With lessons learnt under his belt Over there By the wall Stands the Hustler With the men of law On either side to flank the sallow youth But some of us will never learn It takes the blow of fists to burn How painfully we suffer for the truth
