A labyrinth to get lost in
a whirlpool to be tossed in
a mind that's used to wandering,
terrors I make for myself.

On this way out in
where the end is to begin
the middle is a no man's land

Foxholes and dugouts
hidey holes for weary souls
terrors I make for myself.

In the comfort of carriage
91063
I could be safe
secure
sure I could
but
look at them as I see them
and you'll see
sleeping bogeymen
terrors I make for myself.

Exit to Oxford street
to daylight where you wil meet
vagabonds and beggars,
it staggers me to see
so much poverty
on the streets paved with gold.

Turn a page and you age
disgracefully or not,
this book is the only book
you've got

Read it twice.