The wind will seek to help me think
But all my thoughts,
they came to nothing
Poor old
Van
Gogh, the man with the famous ear
Cut one off in a fit of madness,
left one on so he could hear
It's alright to be just alright,
and it's okay to feel just fine
Cause love will cure most everything,
but it don't work all the time
And we threw our flowers into the fire,
you said sing for the song
And the sound of the wings of the dark birds flying,
and feel the sky, the stars shine
And your friends are never far away
And then the strings began to
play
Up the concrete steps tremble
the rushdown masses
Like water flowing backwards
While people pour into carriages
and trains bound for
Egham or
Wembley or
West
Ham
Eyes on the ground, noses in the air
No one gives a fuck,
but I'm still here, somehow
So we lay down in a graveyard
beneath a sycamore tree
The branches stretch to heaven
like bones set free
Same young lads are smoking
fags and drinking in the park
A wino almost home walking
sideways in the dark
But it's a long way back,
To find out everyone is the same