Different winds blow here,
Well there's the severe,
And then there's the fair,
The one that doesn't ruffle the hair,
But instead cools the hottest head,
Before it's said what it shouldn't have said,
And lets it reach that beckoning bed,
Still unhurt and still undead.

Different winds blow here,
Well there's the severe,
And then there's the fair,
The one that has a care,
To guide to a better day,
To clear the mists away,
To lighten the darkest dismay,
And slow the inevitable decay.

I'd like to make a movie,
And I'd like to put you in it,
I know you want to be a star,
I know you want to go real far,
I'd like to make a movie,
And I'd like to put you in it,
So if you want to go all the way,
I got just the part for you to play.

A wasted life
Whichever way you look
Missed chances
And the time it took
To realise
The sand was running out
Before my very eyes

Sitting on a chair,
Unable to do anything,
Except sit and stare,
No.
It's no good.
There's nothing there.

I want your skin,
Cool or cold,
Before my eyes,
Beneath my hands,
Against my lips,
In my mouth.
I want your skin.

Its calling,
Is a calling clear.
It's calling to me,
Softly to my ear:

come back,
come back,
nothing to fear.

come back,
come back,
you're happier here.

On a grey day,
On a blue day,
I'd like to just float away.