| Our little friend is tucked away
|
| Sleeping in some far flung galaxy
|
| Breathing like a baby concertina
|
| And foxes are fighting
|
| Congregating in the garden
|
| Trying to choose a leader
|
| Two pairs of eyes watch satellites
|
| Dance between the clouds
|
| And there’s no chance they’re coming down
|
| At least we know we’re
|
| Un-alone
|
| Lay your weight on my shoulder
|
| And your hands on my backbone
|
| Until it feels like we’re almost
|
| Passed the point of no return
|
| Sunset dashes across your cheeks
|
| Where splashes of colour meet
|
| And mix into a maelstrom
|
| Just beyond the point of no return
|
| Familiar vitriol is filtering
|
| Through walls and windowpanes
|
| Then drowned out by the train
|
| Bringing home the last commuter
|
| And everything is slow
|
| And you look like a phantom in a glow
|
| From your computer
|
| Two pairs of eyes watch satellites
|
| Blink between the clouds
|
| And I don’t think they’re coming down
|
| At least we know we’re
|
| Un-alone
|
| Lay your weight on my shoulder
|
| And your hands on my backbone
|
| Until it feels like we’re almost
|
| Passed the point of no return
|
| Sunset dashes across your cheeks
|
| Where splashes of colour meet
|
| And mix into a maelstrom
|
| Just beyond the point of no return
|
| You say you saw something
|
| In the surface of the neighbour’s pool
|
| I feel your fear so I fake my cool
|
| I tell you that it’s just regrets reflected
|
| And black is nothing more
|
| Than silhouettes connected
|
| Forget the retrospective
|
| I promise in the future you will be protected
|
| And I’ll be calling home to let you know
|
| You’re un-alone
|
| Lay your weight on my shoulder
|
| And your hands on my backbone
|
| Until it feels like we’re almost
|
| Passed the point of no return
|
| Sunset dashes across your cheeks
|
| Where splashes of colour meet
|
| And mix into a maelstrom
|
| Just beyond the point of no return |