You can hear the room On these long, winter nights If you'd just, if you'd just If you'd just be quiet Beneath the word There's the whisper of pipes
Well, i left home when i was 16 I had no reason, had no rhyme I did not know where i was going It did not matter at that time And there were people
It's the night of the hunter It's the night of the long knives It's the night of the hunter And you can justify all you like Sleep tight, this snowy
I must leave london It is bad for my soul It's making a hole That will erode me I cannot subscribe I cannot tow the line And robert elms, You're selectively
Your ghost, a white candle in this night Smile broken, though eyes bright as carnival rides You wander these streets, punch-drunk on the stars As the
I can't get on, i can't get on Because i live in the past And it's too strong I can't get on, i can't get on Because i live in the past And it's too
You're life's like a comic book All shadows and childhood fantasy The people you love, disguised In a velvet glove biography But i recognize what's going
I know nothing of tides And i'm confused by the stars But you can never get lost When you've nowhere to go And i've got space in my heart For the next
You turn on your side like you have to face North Or else you can't sleep : the unwritten law But how can you sleep with my heart so loud? Like a scream
Out of season, out of heart, I cross you off beneath the stars Autumn leaves a nasty scar and with the leaves, the heart departs You're off the map, you
Started mailroom Moved up through Clerical, now Obituaries I am the teacher's son I am the teacher's son I am the teacher's son I'm the teacher's son
I've a theory of ghosts and i'm a monster to girls I stick in their heart like a rusty spur But i've a theory of ghosts: They're alive and we're all
The end of a dark, tired year I slept bad, in bad dreams, on bad beer I tried to get on but you nagged in my ear And London is fucked - a busted bike
The tollbooth martyrs, 21 - 56 Leave their lives at the gate and beneath the standard issue crucifix Push their summers to the side of the plate Live
Geography, be kind to me, for the miles apart are killing me Tonight I would die to be by her side so speed the road, rush the lights Speed the road,
All armies bear their losses, yet still they rally on. The fanfare may be muted, the spirit may be gone. And Troy was devastated by an accident of greed
Tonight, I can't sleep, the heart's all wires The moon is widowed, the stars, retired i'll never travel and I'm always tired but I still love you and
Outside, the fairground in snow Revolves like a waltz, funeral slow And summer has gone, collapsed like a chair Like the heart of a bird, a bell on the
