Ask the new words. This guy is wondering why I’ve a future. Insurgent and taking its time. Ask him where to land. Overseas? Crash and start again Insurgent, I see.

Find your own way. I long to go back in time and ask a question. To reassure me the rest of my life.

Crashing overhead woe the sea. Ask and start again. Insurgent, insurgent, I see.

Ask him where to land. Overseas? Collapse and start again. Uncertain I be.

Crashing overhead woe is me. Ask and start again. Insurgent , insurgent I see.

Like A Book
Suddenly she came out of nowhere. Eyes down trying their best not to stare. No room for culture it’s all politics. Tell me how to find the shape I’m in. I’m done thinking this over. Call a friend. Seeing them later. See a play. Watching bodies move across the stage. And I said hey you should have come over. Cos I’m like a book hard not to read hard to put down. And I think it can wait now. It’s hard to define hard to define out through the door. And I think you should tell her. Say “I’m like a leaf spring budding on a tree. Try not to move when you analyse me”. You try too hard you see. Then one day I started painting silhouettes. I had colours running round in my head. No words nothing I can do with them, just light falling over everything. That’s it the end of the story. Red, blue and seven shades of blue green. Paint three figures sitting on the marble steps. And I said hey you should have come over. Cos I’m like a book hard not to read hard to put down. And I think it can wait now. Analyse – define – analyse – define out through the door. And think you should tell her. Say “I’m like a leaf spring budding on the tree. What did you say when you analysed me?” You try too hard you see.

Don’t Lose Yrself In The Snow
I didn’t know myself until I found out that I had you. I didn’t love myself but God only knows I really tried to. Pull the other one, pull the other one,  I can see your lies, every little one. Burn the other part. Burn the other part. Rip it out yourself and tear its little heart.

Don’t lose yrself in the snow, Don’t lose your head silly girl.

And it’s like…and it’s like….a never ending motion

And it’s like…and it’s like….cold water in an ocean

Out Of Style
I was home alone last night and nothing there was said. A rat under the floorboards, a window open upstairs. I was going through some old records and found a gem. I put it on and I could swear I was happy for a while. But it’s going out of style.

The bastards even stole the things from underneath my bed. A photograph of Anna in a book I hadn’t read. Why they had to tie the ropes so tight I couldn’t say. Red marks on my skin tell me I won’t stay home again. Because it’s going out of style.

I am 24 Delamore. My friends have found their way to my front door. I guess we should set down a new record. After all it’s all for one and one for all. I suddenly get the feeling that either I lived here or someone in my family has lived here in the past. I find myself astounded at how nice it is in here. Through the window they’re windsurfing. But I’m dreaming all along.

I’m sitting with my neighbours on their floor but we’re either in the Downs or Yorkshire Moors. My brother he has written a new song,  but the fire on the roof excites us more. Then brutal architecture attacks the azure blue. A fine juxtaposition like the painting in the room. This world is astounding and bolted to the night. Jump Johnny Dolphin. I’m dreaming all along.

Wave Of The Hand
Don’t leave tonight. We are all God. A spark can flash into the dark. I played the part so well with you. You fell apart. I couldn’t, I know myself far too well. And honestly it’s just luck, just a wave of the hand. Give me fire and hold my head. Without love, there’s nothing there for me.

Without you the world will still be a curse. More souls will bare their teeth in there. I trip I fall,  a cellar door you’ve never known. I can’t see can’t hear,  this shit is getting old. And honestly it’s just luck. Just a wave of the hand. We need fire. It’s gone again. Without love, there’s nothing there for me.

Love And Death
You’ve got four minutes to say what love is. You’ve got four minutes to say you really care. You say what you’ve been thinking of or dreaming. You don’t mean it let’s face it you don’t even care. Arms move, sweet embrace. Say you’ll do almost anything but I can’t do it, the old fun and games. Pray to lose, alone I’m okay. And over field harvested I hear them call again – white haired siren apparitions. Angels love and death. I don’t bother with them. Do what you will, the wind in your hair. It’s hard to find meaning in there.

I was thinking I was one in a million. But you’re one in one hundred and fifty or less. You can say that love is found in our wanderings. I can say I see vicious apes grinning at me. Ha. And over fields I’ll cement one more life to the end. Face it you don’t understand. What am I saying? Why should you care? Angels love and death. I throw bottles at them. I have a box of things I don’t need. I keep it safe, I will do for years. That’s my devotion. Hand myself over.

The Veil
You know you belong to me. Young ones running wild. They’re not listening. Wait a little while. Their world was made by me. I’m grown up now child. If I wasn’t here they’d be behind the veil. Running round every night till I’m getting pretty tired. Keep on taking home the pay. Keep on taking books from off the shelf. Wandering through the night high above the Earthly lights. Echoing through the air. Am I over here? Or over there?

I couldn’t ever let you go. And your world could end but I wouldn’t know.

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