作词 : Checes, Johnson, Marin ...
  On the forecourts of French libraries from Reignac to Marseilles
 the rain rattles small cars, clouds drape over backseats
 I am a photograph in your satchel, between a paperback and cigarettes
 I am the dead bird on the gravel, neck snapped from last night's Northwesterly
 But no peace, no closure
 But no peace, no closure
 Beside these roads that halt like jetties, beneath circling murders are leafless trees
 Drowning at the knees; some burnt to the fingertips
 And here my tracks sink, end, return as I walked in and out of you
 And here my tracks sink, end, return as I walked in and out of you
 But no peace, no closure
 But no peace, no closure
 Driving back through the town
 The road map-pinned by Pharmacie signs winking up-road
 The cars slice the afternoon with a guillotine slush
 As it bleeds into a night peppered by stars and planes to Japan
 And the changing of gears jilts the cats from the walls
 The truth lives with you
 The truth lives with you
 But no peace, no closure
 But no peace, no closure
 But no peace, no closure
 But no peace, no closure