i am standing,
everytime a compliment is thrown
i reach out to catch it
but i move at the last moment

the record has stuck
with the needle in the groove
the scene of the past
no longer moves

they felt that they had got closer
to the truth
than anyone had before
that they had found
an inner truth like some magical door

felt rain on the window
an almighty glow
my natural fires

the damp damp smell
of age encrusted fears
lies dormant in the wishing well
where wishes are not more
and only time will tell

life is a revolution
will you join in
you read with blank eyes
what was it,
that died inside?

picked up from the floor
by hands that heal
by minds that think alike
by mechanics who,
removed the stabilisers from my bike

i was never the person
that they made me out to be
and accepting that,
i was not like that with everybody
remained just out of reach