The dog-eared Disprin, in your handbag. A gathering of crumbs and, twenty fags. I'd steal some chewing gum, a few stray coins. I'm sure you noticed but didn't much mind.
It's a drive-by summer at the end of March. Sees more than it's pound of flesh. City comes alive in the sunshine. All loved-up, everyone flashing smiles.
Turn down the bed sheets. In the spare room. For your youngest one. Will come visit soon. To catch up on the life. that seems to stand still. . She wakes to find.
I went 'round to stand in your hall. To watch you descend. While your taxi slowed. Outside my home. For the last drive by. I went 'round for to fill your sail.
I don't wanna shake you off. I love the way we fit. I can't resist one who dares. Nor ones who shares like that. . And returning to your sea. Somewhere I can bathe my feet.
It's coming faster now. And I never thought I'd be here. Running past you now. But you're holding out on me. . Strip of lace on your collar bone. I think I caught you catching me.
What's sure to get you by. Is to avoid the common lie. That we're under starters. Starters orders. She lost her nerve the last day. Distractions in the cross-hairs.
Out into pitch black. Where the moon lay upon its back. Driving deep into the throat. Of the countryside. . Strapped tight into. Centre of scene. Starry open attic night.
You're so pretty and I'm so lame. You're ever changing, I stay the same. You give good sermon, I say bad grace. My food for the soul it leaves a bad taste.
I should know my time and place. I'm Tuesdays child without the grace. Bring your canary, bring your flame. There's a rich seem of wind in my coal mine.
In the womb. Back in playschool. In the yard. Where it first got hard. Button moon. On a Tuesday at noon. Bagpuss gave me the fear. But as if by magic she appeared.
There is a darkness to these jaded days. Maybe it's a seasonal affected disorder. Or maybe we're just s.a.d.. There is photosynthesis. We crane our necks for sunlight.
Give me an opinion. 'Cos I don't have one. I'll agree with you if you're right. I always know where you're coming from. But I've never been there. I have to steal from you when you write.
I'd say life's a different story when you're facing certain death. I wonder did they kick back when they knew the game was up. Static on the radio ain't no soundtrack for this end.
When I wake in the morning. Of a bad skin day. And I can't face my lover. On a bad skin day. Am I this alone?. Volcano has erupted. And the ash sails down.
I should have known. By the arc of the empty wine glass. I should have known. 'Cause you step on, don't walk over cracks. . Looking over my shoulder. To see you looking back over yours.
Is this room getting smaller,. Or is it just me?. I pace myself, brace myself,. Trying not to breathe.. All these walls are closing in on me,. Like the death star bin,.
You counted 74 swans on the canal. You counted 74 swans on the canal. . You were glad it was an even number. Everybody had another. No one was facing this cold alone.
I'll never run a four minute mile. And that's okay most of the time. Never played for Barcelona. Or sail around the world alone. I'll never be the man on the wire.
Night songs are lonelier. Soundwaves fell the emptiness. . Live for a day in the light. Conal streams are filling my eyes. Never mind such slide of decay.