I have trouble sleeping, my fears keep me awake.
Like the end of a movie, where no one’s left standing;
Or the end of a song, where the notes came out wrong.
I’m in the position of misindication;
When the power is gone, but ambition remains.
It’s just a delusional state of affairs.
The cure is a poison, and the truth tastes bitter.
There’s no alternate ending, no matter how hard we try.
And all that bothers me is all that’s here and now.
My wealth and my estate, the domains of my doubt.
Let demons be recognised, can’t hide behind them anyway.
Can’t stand their drumming; drummings in my ears.
My dreams aren’t really dreams; they’re the products of reality.
I’ve been living here too long to be able to redeem my sanity.
As the clock tickers and flickers away,
A fear grows as an ember left alight.
I lie awake thinking, remembering tomorrow’s another day.

The girl’s some sort of genius.
Some kind of magical being.
She’s so full of music,
And her tunes ring through the night.
But she threw it all away,
On some kind of missing link.
A moment’s weakness for an eternal mistake.
Oh it never really seems fair.

The boy’s some kind of genius.
He lives on the corner,
Of that run-down building,
On the side we dare not go.
He was a visionary, some kind of connoisseur.
And his was the bluest eyes,
Anyone would ever see.
But he could not take the staring,
All the talking and debris.
So he ended it all, with a pitiful fall.
A moment’s sadness for an honest mistake.
It’s never really fair.
But I guess that’s how it is.

I wrote you my old friend.
I wrote to you yesterday,
Or was it the day before?
I wrote to ask about your day
I wrote to see if you’ve laughed recently.
I wrote to ask if you’ll still be around.
On the day of awakening.
I wrote to tell you I’m quite sad,
Or mad or feeling rather bad.
And though these rhymes are quite childish,
And a hindrance to my senses.
I’d still like to write once in a while.
Cause everything’s better on paper,
Just ask me again a little later,
And I’ll tell you you’re amazing.
Just wanted to tell you you’re truly amazing.

I think this is how it’s meant to be.
My conscience stained with a part of you.
I think this is how it ends.
With the end at the beginning,
And us beginning where it ends.
So while I try so hard not to fall into a pitch black hole.
The truth is plain to see.
My every wish is fulfilling,
But your every intention is leaving,
So how do I catch up to you?

Darling let’s waste time.
On the less important things in life.
Let’s sit and pray for the rain to fall.
Cause the waiting is the worst of all.
So if I try to win your heart,
Don’t go dragging it on and on.
One of these days we’re going to say goodbye.
One of these days we’re going to say good luck.
To all the glances and the chances.
Pass the world to those who’ll inherit it.
We won’t be the first,
And we won’t be the last.
So let’s all play the fool tonight.
For one night only,
Let’s just waste our time.

Can you help me out?
I’ve been stumblin’ about for a while now,
It’s the middle of the afternoon,
And I’m standing on traffic cones.
The tyres they skid, and mark the pavement,
While the crossfire lines tell of the wars before.
But I will go no further.
If you can find me, I’ll follow you.
I just need to find me, then I’ll come with you.
My love will tire.
My legs will cave.
And I will surely fade away.
When you find me, let me know.
I’ll surely be in the middle of the road,
The headlight in my eyes.

The jewels in a treasure chest filled with a million stories.
A bird in a wired cage, she swims in a sea of silence.
The essence of the days when we were seventeen.
When broken dreams lived down the street,
But never on our door steps.
Bid my baby goodnight then drove home to mama,
With the radio on our favourite songs,
Passed the picture shows of horror.
The skies lit up in a blaze of fire,
As we sat on a silver lake.
Count the thousandth moon rising,
And watched the hundredth sun set.
When the day is through and the night is young.
We watched our tails for bed bugs.
With any song that came along was a trace of our existence.
And in the night we closed our eyes,
Wait till all is still.
And all of this will vanish of course, it’d all be gone.
For birds never stay too long,
They always fly home in Summer.

All you fabulous people gather round.
We’re starting a commotion; we’re staging a scene,
We’ll turn the world on its head,
We’ll bring down the roof,
Cause that’s what we do,
We’re fabulous people.

Bring your tagged jackets,
Bring your shiny shoes,
Cause we’ll party all night,
That’s just what we do.
We bring the torches,
And we burn the stakes,
We are the makers of your future,
We decide your fate.
We’re the fabulous people,
That’s just what we do.

We are the heart breakers,
The rain on your parade,
We keep the world interesting,
With the zing of life.
Not out of a need,
But to satisfy a want.
We’re fabulous people.

And after all is done,
And after all is through.
When the fabulous people,
Are no longer me or you.
We’ll grasp the slipping memory,
The sound of dying glory.
Cause we were fabulous people,
But it doesn’t matters now.

Sitting by a broken highway
Watching rabbits run,
They frolic on the meadows
And chase a setting sun.
Their beauty and their wonder,
Are unscrupulous to me
As I sit here chair bound,
Yearning to be free.
A prison with a picket fence,
And flowers by the score,
No one knows the quiet hell,
Lurking behind its doors,
Perchance someone may come knocking,
Selling vacuums or the like,
I won’t answer, I won’t bother,
They’ll never see the light.

My oh my, London’s burning.
Go fetch the pails of water
Come, douse it on the fire.
And pray that London will burn no more.
Cause within the damp forgotten streets,
Somewhere is my treasure.
She stalks the streets in the hollow lights,
She walks like the vampires,
She’s high as the moon.
She’ll entice your every fibre,
Then leave you to rot.
In all your wicked dreams,
The hellish prison in all corners of the mind.
All of a sudden you’re found,
Leaving heartaches and losing faith.
Trapped within some kind of paraphrase,
Lost in a London burning so bright.