(nick feldman). . Baby ben really likes to swing. Baby ben really feels like a king. As the wail of the horns make his body sway. Peggy sue likes to rock and roll.
Bonfires burning bright. Pumpkin faces in the night. I remember halloween. . Dead cats hanging from poles. Little dead are out in groves. I remember halloween.
Baby, life's what you make it - can't escape it. Baby, yesterday's favourite; don't you hate it?. Everything's all right... life's what you make it. Baby, life's what you make it - don't backdate it.
Bonfires burning bright. Pumpkin faces in the night. I remember Halloween. . Dead cats hanging from poles. Little dead are out in droves. I remember Halloween.
It seems that I remember. I dreamed a thousand dreams.. We'd face the days together,. No matter what they'd bring.. A strength inside like I'd never known,.
You were someone to believe in. A place for hope in a changing world. Feeling every moment. Every one of the years spent in your arms. . After a lifetime of living.
On the banks of a sunset beach. Messages scratched in sand. Beneath a roaming home of stars. Young boys try their hand. A spanish harbouring of sorts.
Looking, by chance, in at the open window,. I saw my own self seated in his chair.. With gaze abstracted, furrowed forehead,. Unkempt hair.. . I thought that I had suddenly come to die,.
That has to be the age of overcome. The systems which are on the ceiling. Which are on the run to destroy. Human kind's nation. Human kind's inwardness.
The lights of the ashes smoulder through hills and vales. Nostalgia burns in the hearts of the strongest. Picasso is painting the ships in the harbour.
Here we are then, here we are. Notes from a suicide. And he will never ever be. The Greatest Living Englishman. . It's such a melancholy blue. Or a grey of no significance.
The night is dark and cold. The strong winds and the rain. Crack the branches upon my window. The devil beats his drum. Casting out his spell. Dragging all his own down into hell.
In dresses white, all set for sail. A little girl dreams of taking the veil. In dresses white, all set for sail. A little girl dreams of taking the veil.
The sun shines high above. The sounds of laughter. The birds swoop down upon. The crosses of old grey churches. We say that we're in love. While secretly wishing for rain.
Out upon the open fields. The rain is pouring down. We're pulling up the sheets again. Against the passing tides of love. Every doubt that holds you here.
I recognize no method of living that I know.. I see only the basic materials I may use.. If you ask me, I may tell you.. It's been this way for years..
If heaven watches over me,. Sowing seeds back in the soil.. With eyes that see, hands that feel,. Why am I the last to know?. Sheltered lives, spent partially breathing,.
Voices heard in fields of green.. Their joy, their calm, and luxury. Are lost within the wanderings of my mind.. I'm cutting branches from the trees,.
Standing firm on this stony ground. The wind blows hard. Pulls these clothes around. I harbour all the same worries as most. The temptations to leave or to give up the ghost.
"Climb the stairs. And step into my dream house". . These words are yours, maria. The waters warm (hold me). The table bare (till the worst is past). Until the summer nights return.