Sit by my lullaby
Before we have to go
Before the lights come on


You're brave and it makes me braver
A saviour
A clash waiting to happen



Saint Francis of Assisi was loved by all creatures
He retired two houses down from me
His Franciscan robe folded in two

Would you sit by my lullaby like you used to?



Forget that we have run out of time
I just arrived

Do me while I'm singing to you
Do me while I'm playing my guitar


And let me play you like you want to be played

Sit by my lullaby
Before we have to go
Before the lights come on

How many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man?

It’s the moment he realises his *** is not a weapon
He can feel it
It’s something to do with ****, again

Into it, is the humanity he understands
Some men reach it early, some never
Here’s a toast to manhood and its many forms

(p.s., ok here's a bit more:-
  I think it's to do with usefulness.
    Make yourself useful in this world)

It was my first week in the underground
I tapped the girl in the black dress on the shoulder
Pointing at my train booklet, I asked for directions
In the rush of people she quickly directed me
"Always from behind?"
She said boldly, sistering me
She could tell
I didn't look into her eyes
And I carried on my way

I was sitting in my room in the temple,
I was procrastinating
In a spiritual way
Hesse would understand

The world came to my door
The sound of footsteps made me want get back into bed
But I walked outside
Faced the world
Said hello
And started my day

We are shallow without her
We are shallow without her secret
That's all I know

We heard what he did to you
How he took you away from us
Your father's words were law at his trial
We pray for you and your family
Our blood is warm on this cold earth for you

I'll never forget those words
"What shoes will I have to wear in case I have to run"

We are shallow without her
We are shallow without her secret
May it forever be safe, and safer still
Our blood is warm on this cold earth for you

There was before and after
Before, there were only a few really going for it

But now almost everyone is
Especially the singers and musicians

There is no next time anymore
Waiting around is like writing letters on your tombstone

To break the spells, the heavy quicksand, the black clouds, the mud and dirt
That could **** a man, that has and will **** many more

We are a stampede
A stampede of need

Pushing ourselves ever more beyond our tiredness
Into energy and the unexpected

To not go out quietly in our sleep
And to be left with the weight of not having tried, with that headache from time immemorial

To be free to be free to be free, she sang

These are truthful days

Everytime I see her
While I'm working
She makes me angry
She triggers my rage

Her homeless hair
Crackhead eyes and skin
Her cracked teeth
That demand shout and beg

I saw her on a cold night
Walking about
It was something like 2 am
Most women, if not everyone
Wouldn't be out at that hour, alone
She must think she has nothing
Nothing to keep safe
Nothing to take
Nothing
Nothing