| It was a dream I had
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| This room was in the middle of a sandy plain
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| The walls were gone but the doors and windows remained
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| At the side of the bed were soft cushions
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| Two-dimensional ships like ocean liners sailed across this desert
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| As they passed, their huge bulks disappearing into a thin line
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| These ships were always full of people facing windows
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| And sometimes find their problems seem like a day’s work
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| Following deep tracks, the boats kept passing by
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| Came to an unmanned sort of harbour
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| Stood on the sand in no water
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| (?) lowered it’s doors
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| And one by one the ships descended to the sand
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| And sailed off in different directions across the desert
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| The carrier was then refilled with ships arriving in perfect time
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| I watched seven or eight of these drop-offs
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| And realised the process, the ships and the people within them never differed
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| I thought about following any of these ships to the end of their journey
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| But suspected I would end up back here
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| Or a place so similar that I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference
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| I can’t sleep in this bed anymore
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| It’s like a padded cell
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| The sheets are too tight
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| A man of your success
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| I’m tired of it
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| Walked over to the window
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| Climbed on the window-ledge
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| And jumped out
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| I wasn’t scared
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| I know I can fly
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| A quiff, a whiff of smoke, an empty egg
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| Roses north (I don’t know how long we’d been waiting)
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| A front room (endless hours, weeks, years even)
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| Lino, yellow formica (we didn’t know)
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| Lots of milky tea (only onward, forward, inward, in, over a field) (I don’t
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| want to do this)
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| Unmatched to match the unmatched plates (the sun sets in the west) (I really
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| really really don’t want to do this)
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| Straight-backed chairs (this is where we started each night) (you made me do it)
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| Steamy glass-pane window (we could only travel at night) (bang bang bang on the
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| door)
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| Warped door, embassy no. |
| 6 ashtray (we would conceal ourselves in the missing
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| light 'till darkness fell) (I awoke, ran downstairs)
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| Chewy chop (nobody knew where we were) (a letter dropped to the floor)
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| Toasted cob, mustard (where we were going) (I bent, reached)
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| Crinkly-cut chips, bendy fork (a vague sense of direction) (swang open)
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| Polyester, pink gingham ((?)) (cracked my head)
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| (nothing told us where we were) (unconscious fell)
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| (we always somehow managed to keep a straight line) (I awoke, the dog)
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| (licking my dick) |