I keep floating down the river, but the ocean never comes. And since the operation, I heard you're breathing just for one. Now everything's imaginary, especially what you love. Left another message, said it's done.
When I hear beautiful music, it's always from another time. Old friends I never visit, well I remember what they're like. Standing on a doorstep full of nervous butterflies, waiting to be asked to come inside. But I keep going out. I can't sleep next to a stranger when I'm coming down. It's 8AM, my heart's beating too loud. Don't bee so amazing, or I'll miss you too much. I felt something that I had never touched.
Everything gets smaller now the further that I go, towards the mouth and the reunion of the known and the unknown. Consider yourself lucky if you think of it as home, you can move mountains with your misery if you don't.
It comes to me in fragments, even those still split in two. Under the leaves of that old lime tree I stood examining the fruit. Some were ripe and some were rotten, I felt nauseous with the truth. There will never be a time more opportune.
So I just won't be late. The window closes, shock rolls over in a tidal wave. And all the color drains out of the frame.
So pleased with a daydream that now living's no good. I took off my shoes and walked into the woods. I felt lost and found with every step I took.