: Stormy-eyed on the edge of dawn: nose pressed against the triple glaze. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall, silent traffic streams both ways. Along
: Kilometers from nowhere on a scented avenue - Lined with poppy girls. I didn't stop, stop to say hello. Curious vendors - waving bric-a-brac -
Just beneath the raw silk sheen That reflects the tints of autumn from the hills. So punch my name. And in case you wonder - I'll be yours - yours, dot com
: I review my past through wicked windows framed in silver and hung in toughened glass, upon my face, around and over. Now and then: memories of men
: Hot mango flush. Ladies with ice cream hair - Gyroscopic pink neon beams - Everybody's happy about something. The crowd moves like a flock of startings
: (Instrumental)
: Hand in the snake pit - black mamba chase. Head through the lion's cage - head on a plate. Two feet on the hot coals - last dance at the ball. Blindfold
: Hey little buddies: soft and silky night walkers. Dangerous species - Tiptoe menace long grass stalkers on my bed: no butter melting in your jaws
: Hot Mango Flush
: I count the hours: you count the days. Together, we count the minutes in this Passion Play. Walk dusty miles. And I ride that train on a first class
: This sparkling wine is all but empty. Too late for trains and no taxis. I know the feeling. Seems all too contrived. There was no master plan but
: Rusted and ropy. Dog-eared old copy. Vintage and classic, or just plain Jurassic: all words to describe me. Relaxed in the knowledge that happily
: Placing people in their dreamscape with fantasies of foreign fields Lofty spires all well appointed In off-season special deals. To far Alaska:
: There's a dragon-tail swishing behind tonight. Poison's rising. I'm up too tight. I might not be responsible for the things that I might do. My
: She's catching the wind: the gentlest of breezes. It's a sensitive passage she's sailing - Through stormy straits, navigates my unfathomable failings
: As one, wet merchants turn their eyes towards the west. Trade winds falter as if in dire consequence. Freezing fish to fry, fail to materialise.
She's catching the wind: the gentlest of breezes. It's a sensitive passage she's sailing - Through stormy straits, navigates my unfathomable failings
Hand in the snake pit - black mamba chase. Head through the lion's cage - head on a plate. Two feet on the hot coals - last dance at the ball. Blindfold
