He ran with his head
and tripped over his words
               a sleeping poet
with nothing but his thoughts

I can smell
each fibre of this moment
The stench of the present
and a linger of the past;
so that when I wake up in the morning
a shadow can be cast

You can follow my heart
to the end of the skies
and we'll dance around the moon
until the sun is in our eyes

Sat on the wall
outside Number Eight
where I walk through the fire
just to see heaven's gate

Creek goes the door
I will follow the night
and I'll creep in the stairs
but I won't turn on the light

savage was the wind
that blew the smoke in my eyes
as it raged from the fires
that burned your name into my skies

still you plucked at the fabrics of my heart  
that were bursting at the seams  
so now uncoiled is the thread
that once tied you into my dreams

go find another lover
you can take him to the stars tonight
he can push you against the car
but he won't hold you as tight  

and he can tell you things
that will help you forget
but what you will find in the sky
is my name and regret