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Yesterday’s papers, are bleached by the sun
Tumbling in the outflow of the aircon, like a miracle gone sour, I watch for an hour
You caught yourself stealing, and turned yourself in,
Embarrassed that you failed to spot yourself in the identity parade, but errors are made
We rise alone….
Take me back to when the moment’s begun,
‘cause what I dream is what will come, what I dream is what will come
The desperate doorways that lead to your shores,
The painted over cataracht glass, that steals your light of day, take it away,
Cos mornings are empty, and evenings the same,
And sometimes in the small hours I will open my eyes and feel like I can see it all for what it is, for what it is
We rise alone
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