Shoe Store Scenery

Do you see this,
Another enigmatic view of some poor lad in a ragged suit,
Do you see this,
In you.

I'm just hoping,
For the phone,
To actually work,
Two ways,
Like it did,
In yesterdays.

Oh God, pick up the phone.

By the arson,
Way of thinking,
I'm just a poor spark.

Like the reign of a skeptical boulevard.

Underneath this hallow bridge,
Is where I set my heart,
May it fall them broken fridges,
Is where I didn't sell my soul,
Don't need to sell my soul.

I'm just fishing,
Like everybody else,
Round this lake of yesterdays,
I'm just fishing,
When there's no one else to feed.

I might not know much of the grandeur of the universe,
But I know that I'm just a string,
Of affection and deliberate disturbance,
I'm just hoping for a drink.

Do you see this,
A poor man and his jagged knife in fray,
Oh the fight is daily,
But not everyday.

By the threshold,
Of another enchanted shoe store.

I get a payment for the rest,
The nest of meekly whores.

I have friends now.
Sitting by the bus,
They just don't talk to me,
I guess like the telephones they only work one way.

I was happy as the rest,
In the drunken fest,
I just dreamt differently.

And now they put me in a jar,
Oblivious of who they are,
And still I'm dreaming.

I might now know much about God,
Or the stars, or the vacant lots,
But Godfrey...

If a ten tonne truck,
Kills the both of us,
To die by your side,
The pleasure,
The privilege is mine.

If a double decker bus,
Crashes into us,
To die by your side,
Is such a heavenly way to die.

There is a pocket with no holes,
There is a light that never goes out,
There is a man with no limits to his generosity.

He's just not here.