I am getting so sick,
Sick and tired of the day to day.
The same motions,
Zombie potions keeping you awake.
The reports are stocked,
The chairs locked in the upright position.
In a sea of fake smiles,
Judging Trials--always graceful disposition.

Yeah, the grass always looks a little greener on the other side.
Yeah, the grass always looks a little greener on the other side.

Well good morning to you,
how ya doin' on this nice, sunny day?
Are you ready now,
to sit and **** and ***** your life away?
Well my boss's boss,
he will toss and turn late in to the night
And it's a wonder how,
I see it now through my father's eyes.

Yeah, the grass always looks a little greener on the other side.
Yeah, the grass always looks a little greener on the other side.

sunken eyes and an untame mind.
eyes grow pale with the sun,
the universe turns black all at once.
free fall into oblivion, lick the edge
and feel the pain. i can't stop the rain from
sinking down my face. this love is all
i had, now i just spin around in place,
wishing to be alone. it's just a phase, so
i say, but everything is dull. the wind
pulls through my throat speaking
words i've never known. my eyes won't
close, the brain says no. can't stop thinking.
the sun is devouring my irises, blinded
by the deafening silences. what's happening?
where's my mind? i can't keep passing by
with i'm fine.

It's too cold to sweat
and I'm only cycling for a reason to be tired,
to be warm later on by the radiator fire,
to escape mad house choirs
that sing no song of comfort.

Time away from time
is how the modern stay young,
ski run routes that lead around towns
and back again through the Daily Mail nowhere-snow
that never came nor will ever come.

The rain makes your
veins look like
dark black bra straps
underneath a veil of Topshop sale items-
the bangles were bought elsewhere.
Though it's not their size that worry me,
it's what look lives within your eyes
every time you run a finger up your arm
and back down your arm again;
the charm in your slightly curling autumn leafed smile
curls a little more, turning smooth lakeside skin
into Nile-esturay wrinkles that say save me Tim.

Your red delta cheeks pulsate
in the late afternoon sun coming in on
a diagonal through the newly installed,
doesn't quite close properly, velux window;
you ran through fields only
to end up teary eyed in the kitchen
doorway threshold.

But here, here is where your river 
meets my sea, and turbulent tides
swell up to ferry us away to new coastline
continents:
forget we ever swimmed and swam,
poured sand from our shoes,
held hands and ran, and
forget we held hips on train station steps,
shared lips, left and then hid.

*When you see this you'll know it's an apology