My heart is aching as well, my Dear
My shouting instinctive matches
My awe...all apparent is
Display
All that stuff
How much stuff can someone have?
How much longer can someone go on
Searching for a family?
Forever?
I ran with the kite-flyers
I ran away from the machinists
She wears gloves which belong to her Father
I can tell, they are way too big
In the meantime, may nothing
But happiness come through your door
With diesel of course
If this could go some way
Funk
I buy the gifts, the coffees and the cocktails
I talk not about the mechanics of the
Sky, but about the randomness of illness
You, who cares not
Me, who cares not
Crumbs
This is not dealt with very well or promptly
Gaze aversion is not in evidence
Here matey
So calls London
So calls Tokyo
So calls a splatterday suicide
With insects for flowerheads
And flowerheads for people
Dot dot dot
Demonstration songs...that's good
Bloody Scottish people
Welsh hills, we were thinking about
Selling and moving to
Chav central, well sometimes
I am cautious about lust and
I am lustful for caution
People are everso eager to talk about their
Domestic hang-ups
They are in the pipeline or they go wrong
Gutted...they live for the stress
Promise me a day in Perth
Go travelling
Go AWOL
I like the Jones's
And then you're gone, just like that