Poetry of the Deed Frank Turner

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[Verse 1]
They're coming out of the walls, they're coming up through the streets
They're quicksilver wracked by some invisible beat
And right outside of your door, the very stones come alive
They are the spring in the step, the distant look in the eyes

Put your Baudelaire away
And come outside and play

[Chorus]
Me and all my friends are poets of the deed
We're exactly what this country needs
We scratch until we're drunk, we drink until we bleed
We are what we believe

[Verse 2]
Pentameter in attack, iambic pulse in the veins
Free verse powered of the street light mains
An Iliad played out without a shadow of doubt
Between the end of the club, yeah, and the sun coming out

Leave Kerouac at his desk
We have romance in our risks

[Chorus]
Me and all my friends are poets of the deed
We're exactly what this country needs
We scratch until we're drunk, we drink until we bleed
And here's what we believe