Relationship are rough,
sailin’ the ever changin’ tides of emotion.
They don’t come ‘bout easy,
they require a lot of hard work!
Some days be jolly!
But sometime things don’t go yer way.
Some days there’s a change in the wind,
a change in the current,
that goes against the riggins’ o’ yer ship
an’ ye struggle,
but that doesn’t mean yer ship is sinkin’!
Don’t walk the plank now,
just ‘cause the imminent Kraken
of breakup and doubt
is in hot pursuit o’ yer vessel!
Like Dido,
ye won’t be goin’ down with this ship,
there’ll be no white flag!
Are ye really going to let some bombastic baboons pillage yer lass?
No yer not!
Yer goin’ to drop yer anchor
an' battle for that nigh uncatchable ship.
But if ye be captured,
a faith worse than Davy Jones' Locker,
an' they say ‘walk the plank’
then you’ll walk that plank,
but ye’ll cross the seven seas to meet them again!
Storms they pass,
with lil' damage,
if ye just brace and stick it out
'Cos for the right ship,
ye do anythin'

I didn't like that you were in my dream
I didn't care for the deeper meaning
Just for the proper morning
Stop this spinning world
from turning now
For what's it worth,
Earth is not a bumper car
Bumping into cheaper stars

But in dreamland
it's not that simple,
There's no plan
and the ample of people
can be quite bland
sitting in the temple
listening to the Papal's teaching
of the gospel
and like a bell ringing
I saw the ripple
of misunderstanding
spread through the crowd
All proud of their ways
All vowed never to sway

A lot of ****** up things happen in dreams.
Like that bus crash with the injured kids
eyelids half opened in pain
looking for help
but we kept on walking
despite all our preaching

I didn't like that you were there
to share that moment
I feared your judgement
too tired for an argument
I hated that a fragment of you
was buried in me
that laid dormant until now

My dream is my house
method within the madness
organised mess
although you gleam like gold
you're nothing but a mouse
hiding in my place
not scared to show your face
from time to time
But my house doesn't have a phone
to call pest control
so alone I patrol with a pistol
and hope I get lucky

When I wake up
I feel the ache of reality
come crashing down
a carefree burning
and suddenly
I'm mourning for last night

Just for a split-second
I wish I was dreaming again
because at least there
I know what I feel
Isn't real

In the Darkest of months
We're heaped up with hours
Too cold to be in any way
productive
Too dark to be in any way
Instructive
These are the hours
I desire to see you at
A soft summer beam  
That will light my way
And make me stay sane
During the month of locked doors
and smoking chimney tops
it's only too easy to let the weeks
Bury you a mile deep beneath the earth
  
So guide me through November
And I promise  
I'll guide you through anything
Be it a doubt, Pause, fall, tear or just a spilled cup of tea

I am up late
Past the witching hour
Where the open window is the moon
the cool breeze, my only sense of reality
There I am
Sitting in black
Eyes wide open
dusty buttons
stomach churning
In constant suspense of the morning chorus
For daytime has more fear to offer than night
The darkness only proves our worries
like demons  
Slowly rising and taking my brain apart with every second
Like a basket grinding against the walls of my heart as it brings the thoughts to safety  
Eroding my lucky mind
As I melt in the dark night  
And one blink later
I'm gone
Not to return for haunted hours