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Singing praises was never a feature |
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Encouraged in me or my kind. |
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Every time they remain with my hand to my mouth, |
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The crowded borders leave me colour-blind; |
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Pushing me for the death warmed up |
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And the flowers and fur to parade, |
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In the time that it takes for the ritual wake |
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They've broken all the promises they made. |
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I was driven away to distraction and |
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Couldn't see we were all laid to waste, |
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Never sleeping, |
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I saw my abduction from |
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Solid areas fallen with grace. |
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I come drifting through the draughting |
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Dropping out of sight, |
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I'm not begging for love, |
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I'm empty as |
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I am. I'm beginning to wonder is the ability too weak? |
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If this stark interior surrounds me, am |
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I so unique? |
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Little blue souvenir to remind me of |
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Restless days when |
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I should have said |
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No, And you know that |
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I've nothing to share with you |
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For the chance of the love that we save: |
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I wanted to be magnificent |
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For the less-than-a-lifetime of mine, |
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I forget where |
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I came in, |
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All I know there's no discipline now. |
