As I have not trusted
I have not hoped
In the bleak alleyways
And the second-hand streets
Where misery waits
At the turn of your hand
As I have not believed
So I have not seen
The uselessness
The pettiness
Hemmed in by the clouds
By the sun and the stars
By the walls and the rain
I shall not come
To you for tea
As you may come back
Home with me
Not believing
And not seeing the facts
Yapping into our face
Alternate fire
Alternate smoke
I shall not wake
At seven or eight
As all the hours
Are now too late
With a lead weight motionless
I spy
With my little eye
You and I, my love
You and I
With our backs to each other
Chewing on shadows
Dissecting the lights
That their brightness might be classified
And then emasculated
And finally killed
Writer(s): David Michael Tibet, Michael Cashmore Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
