No More Losing the War - Half Moon Run

Somebody stop her, the lifter, the runner

The girl with the gold in her mouth

They caught her at London Waterloo station

Strung up on a Ferris wheel

She used to lose pageants;

«Pick of the Litter»

The newspapers screamed from their racks

Pictures at seven, nineteen eighty-something

The waltz on her father’s shoes

No more losing the war, Karen

No more losing the war, Karen

But I really knew her in an after-pub-closing way

Falling down, crawling drunk

Laughing like children with sugared up gullets

I rue this day

No more losing the war, Karen (Oh, Karen)

No more losing the war

You got me all frustrated

In an old-fashioned way

Easy does it, rider

I’ve had a long, long day

No more losing the war, Karen

No more losing the war, Karen