Leave it on the coat rack in the corner
Leave it on the coat rack in the corner
I see my life
My hands touching something cold
Modesty in concrete
Shiny and warm with lilac walls
Sitting on armchairs with a basket full of spare blankets
And kitchen with matching pots and pans
And a permanent sunbeam which follows me around
The corner and up a wooden stairs
Where pink throw pillows live a life of perfumed air
And ladder reaching an attic filled with
A stretched out mobile life
Of Authentic park runs
Sunday flights abroad. I live I live I live I live I live I lived
Brown hair, Grey Hair
Washing clothes and placing them in draws
Heavy Sandbags in the garage
Escape root trunks from upstairs windows
A dented terrorist violence drying out on a front washing line
With Black brick perspectives plugged into my personal energy supply
An existence on my kitchen floor with all my possessions floating out the door
I see a life of dead things
A of sphere shaped hole
Of buoyancy aids and bullet proof walls
I see my life it's oh so small
A life where the ocean makes my final call.
And a long life that must live without you sycamore
