it's all i can do to stop saying i love you; there's sun in october this place where i live. i guess that's a good thing but who's counting good things, they're lobbying hard now to outlaw those feelings. i heard that they want more powers; suspects of smiling are held without charge. i hope that it teaches them something they couldn't learn any other way; held without charge, well i'd hate to have to pay. but that's another thing you don't have to worry about, no no you don't have to worry about. and if you want to sing out, sing out. you seem to start with a whisper but end in a shout. and i'm curled up beside you, my head on your breast - my favourite pillow for taking my rest. so sing out sing out sing out for me but please, do it quietly. there's something about this that makes me so lazy, i ought to be running - i ought to be gone, got an appointment with god on my farm he's installing the blue-yellow haze of the sky before morning. there's something about the way we walk in a dream world, we're never awake. well i hope that it teaches us something we couldn't learn any other way, waiting for you is just another dumb mistake but that's a promise that i made to wait forever for you - i said i promise i will wait for you (right here). but so what if you grew up alone and an orphan? explain to me how that explains your belief that you're lonelier now than you've ever yet been - these people around you do they go unseen? how do you want to live? i know we're not workers, we won't help ourselves. oh tell me why did we never even try, we couldn't learn any other way. tell me a lie or tell me what you think i think of you, are you somebody pretty?

thinking lonely bored again on the tube i know that everybody feels the same as me risking stares i raise my head i looked back in all my dreams but your love made a dull cliche of all those dreams they're just romantic fantasies

stop the car i'm tired of all these everlasting roads oh won't you pull in to this lullaby, darlin' don't you understand why roadsigns are all black and white when clouds collide above them in a blue and purple sky, oh i love its colours... the answer is so obvious i'd rather not repeat it, no i do not wish to aggravate - i just want to be happy but singletons and lovers come please help support our overview of how we want our lives to be, oh citizens unite behind me and this is for the kids who wish that stuart and the rest would sing it quietly again (yeah!), this is the state you're in your rock'n'roll ain't clever well it's clever isn't it but that's not the reason i love you, your whispers are what do it to me trumpets dance and smile about it, splashes on the breeze you know i love that it ain't perfect and i love the melodies maybe in the summer of your 42nd year you'll grow to understand the truth - you lack the innocence of youth ...but that's not right do you still do the same things that you were doing nine years ago? well i'm still just a lost kid, and i still think that you need to know and oh, all the animals...oh, people ain't nothing compared to all the animals who tell you happy birthday

he used to write him notes the kind that made him laugh he wrote on ten pound notes bout all that he could have he decided to confess that it had caused him some distress but george had up and left him, surrounded by the mess dry paper catches fire and blows upon a breeze and writing by a liar is autumn to the leaves broken leaves, blowing on the breeze

i'm staying in a big house, i'm a little out of place i'm sitting on an old floor marked with stains i can't erase i'm present every night to watch my friends looking to score i raise my head to smile and then go back to being ignored they giggle and they laugh and they smoke, i can hear it from here every little moment is a joke to me and when we hear the morning news it's time to go to sleep i lost count of the minutes since i saw you last i marked them on my bedpost but they just go by too fast so now instead of time i count the bombs dropped on beirut and i work at finding ways to let you know i think you're cute just come on home and every day i work, i go out in the bitter cold and i can barely face it; another day of problems that can't be solved this is the kid who thought that being a writer would be hard but it's worth it, yeah it's worth it, to buy you dinner it makes me feel special, it makes me feel real that i'm allowed to waste your precious time so you can claim your independence all you like - darling you're mine oh look! another non song, more nonsense from your man just turn the tv up and blame it on that fucking band and i know you'd rather be dancing (i'd probably rather be dancing too) but in came the third world war, with the morning news the morning news is i miss you

(no lyrics)

(for the bright bustling busy blowy streets) and we kissed beneath a spotlight, glitter and grotesque faces smiling on, asking for the time or if any'd ever passed. fresh faces and tired drinks, and you had yellow hair - and two eyes shining like the truth - yeah you looked just like a poster for the hitler youth. you were so honest we got sick out in the street (i'd said "before they throw us out, darlin' let's leave") we hid from police cars behind the swimming baths (where my brother got stopped, and got six months) - the blue lights tried to make you bright, and it was then that i regretted the last few nights. it was the spring, girl from philosophy, who told me i was perfect, fed me drugs and lay around. no food or central heating but no matter, her fingers made me feel better. then she went to die in a hospital bed; we traded gifts before she left ("white light/white heat" for one lock of her hair, i told her here's my poetry and she said "this is mine - my lyric fair." and i didn't laugh at what she said, nor she at me (she must've been heavily drugged). but that was in the past when i found you, beckoning to me from a dancefloor, drunk, or maybe i was waving too, you were a window to see through, you're mucky now but you've made me more transparent than i've yet been, you've seen it out so well but why say anything else my only love. but tell me something true or is that too tricky for tell me something true or is that too tricky for you. i'd guide you down the streets i don't walk in company, i would guide then disappear so you get lost in the turns and can't get home, well i like to be alone when somebody wants me. i could tell you all about falling. it's wanting what you can't have and then getting it. it's hurting worse than ice and then forgetting it. but oh, don't listen to me my time has past, just another book to put back on the shelf at the last. just another branch on the family tree, full of tales of the girl who loved me (we were to be wed but the pastor never came - but then neither did i; i couldn't play the game. and still, it would've been a sin - the papers for my third wife were weeks late coming in. we should have waited). she ran away from me and left me wandering and lost in my crippled mind, no there's nothing much to recommend old age. or hanging round to become an old maid. and now it's time for someone new, it's time for something new to do, it's time for you to find a new vocation, you never told me about your previous occupation - you don't want to. well i'd like to walk around your mind now i've revisited my streets, and match up every signpost to your similar retreats. i'm not sabina's franz beneath an ugly hat. i wasn't born to live like that. my lineage demands of me a lesser strife - does your history demand you live a better life? or your hosiery demand you be a better wife? while sinking through the sheets you wash i'll recall us stumbling through the dark, and reaching for your hand in the cold, falling into foreign bodies, beds with unmade stories rolling out like summer hills. will i ever get to show you where i grew up, will we ever turn ourselves into the mystic promised butterflies... this is stupid, these are words i just like using. and it ain't me babe, this is your head playing tricks on you, dancing round and laughing like the kids who used to steal your skipping rope - did they do that? they did it to me.

sit by me in your magic tree there's room enough for two there's not enough for three lie by me in your magic tree can't think of anywhere that i would rather be now hold me in your magic tree there's no-one here to see except the birds and bumblebees

i don't like you; i don't know why i told you that i did and i can't see you - each time i try you explode my eyelid you're expectant i'm awkward and you're wrapped up in a past of mirrored christs babe let's build a rocket ship we'll never have to see the same thing twice we'll never go back, we'll never talk about the past there is a planet where the shy ones learn to ask for what they want there is a planet where the pretty ones know how to be alive but i'm not full of hope, just whisky and the dial tone i'm losing my way let's go back, let's go back to the night that i met you alcohol and afterthoughts, anxiety, a window to see through little girl lost in a ballgown, drunken choirs, quiet eyes and a head full of lullabies would you trade in your wings for wheels? i'm disappointed, but i can't say that i'm surprised and me i'm no more full of hope, just whisky and the dial tone

well yeah i like you, i don't know why i told you otherwise and i see you, staring out from another woman's eyes darlin', darlin', darlin', darlin' come on home home's not where you live, it's where you're close to me, it's - oh i don't know and i'm not full of hope, just whisky and the dial tone i'm losing my way

you cast your net wide and you found a great number of things. and in the end you would have to unpack all those memories, to make room for more control. and that same morning your lover came round to find you on your knees, knee-deep in photos and dreams, ballads and books and bedsprings, just to hear you claim that he'd taken your soul. his intentions had gone astray; his methods had somehow changed along the way. you said you'd noticed each one of those things he took away from you. you told him he'd taken your youth, told him things you knew weren't true. and you listed things he stole from you, and how you'd never go back to that night - how you'd never recapture the past - you told him that you had been lost, told him you had been less than half a girl. your daydreams had gone astray; your plans had somehow changed along the way.

chris had read a lot yeah but he still believed in love he said knowing her's not easy; it's reminiscent of eurynome's dove and it fits like a glove, or it seems to fit - at least a little bit and he said darling when you're tired of all the same old shit let it go and belle had made a promise to turn over a new leaf she sacrificed her tongue to be a slave to his belief but she lost her grief in return, oh sweet relief but she shall still rely on it, at least a little bit when she said lover, when you're tired of all the same old shit let it go he told her you are sinking in the see, you are drowning in the breeze you cannot breathe through habit - you kicked out its teeth oh darling won't you tell us when you're tired of it? you could tell tales to strangers because lovers know them well would you stop the ringing just because you knew the bell or won't you tell? he chose her wedding dress, and begged her to say yes but darling when you're tired of all the same old shit...