|
you hang around in wight |
|
wearing california |
|
but in the hotel bar |
|
painted sailors drown |
|
your ships are going down |
|
out of time |
|
on the tide |
|
in the brine |
|
the years are running through you |
|
unravelling here, like twine |
|
no-one wants to hear you |
|
you're not getting old |
|
you're just getting bored |
|
your fire has gone out |
|
your fire has gone out |
|
your fire has gone out |
|
your fire has gone out |
|
red sky kisses yellow crop |
|
in a concrete hinterland |
|
everyone is monitor twitchy |
|
lonely architecture |
|
the crows swoop over the shopcentre |
|
silver scales |
|
of the fishes in your mind |
|
twist down into black water |
|
besides this is there anything else |
|
we can do for you today? |
|
come back, we miss you |
|
we won't be here forever |
|
i'm sorry |
|
i'm outside by a tree |
|
and need taking home |
|
i'm hammered |
|
been to luxembourg |
|
romania |
|
new york |
|
you were not enamoured |
|
like a basket of broken dolls |
|
**** bruises on skinny arms |
|
you smiled |
|
they had separate homes |
|
but had dinner and drank together |
|
on a daily basis |
|
you always want to put the top back on |
|
too quick |
|
too quick |
|
like sausage and chips |
|
in some german town |
|
blister packs |
|
empty bottles |
|
it's in the rack |
|
look there, in the rack |
|
on the same old line |
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with the same old stops |
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at the same old time |
|
at the same old time |
|
at the same old time |
