Must be time for a second chance. I can't escape this basement flat. Writers cramp and claustrophobia. . Must be time for a better place. My sink leaks and the rats have won the race.
I don't want to grow anything in my heart. I don't want to write all these things in the sand. I don't want to listen and not understand. I don't want to tramp up the footpath of stars.
You're watching people fighting, you're watching people losing. On Armistice Day. . The watchers do the wincing, reporters so convincing. But the TV never lies.
And my eyes shut tight as the eyes of dark slip away. And I'll drift through dreams till the dawn of the day. When the sun comes up and I'll be here alone.
When I cant see you. Your always near. Back right pocket. I keep you there. Safely hidden. For all those times. When nothing else at all. Can get me by.