I walked with the river in kind of a dream. Hand in hand, the all-knowing river and me. To the clamour of rushes and deeply barren trees. A drunk making blossom, the blush to be seen.
I can't undo the day. It won't go, won't go under the rug. I pull out the stops. And you, you pull the plug. . These are sober days and I know it can't be.
I throw this to the wind. But what if I was right. Well, did you trust your noble dreams. And gentle expectations to the mercy of the night?. The night will always win.
Got to get out of TV. Just pick a point and go. The ticker tape tangles my feet. As I search for a face that I know. . Come on, tower crane driver. There's not so far to go.
The times they are a changing back. You know the heat is rising. I heard a million knuckles crack. Is it so surprising?. . I'm so sick of waiting. And I know you feel the same.
The fix is in. There's a nag gonna dance home at Epsom. The fix is in. Can't wait to see how it upsets them. . Too many times we've been postally pipped.
All my saints have taken bribes. Singing, "Going, going, gone.". All the angels taken dives. Leaving you the only one. . If I loose a sequin here and there.
So I'm there,. Charging around with a juggernaut brow. Overdraft speeches and deadlines to make. Cramming commitments like cats in a sack. Telephone burn and a purposeful gait.