Clark-Cole
No longer harbour
To escapist design
I propose an exit strategy
Could you let it go?
A simple loss of traction
On an empty road
More than likely sleeping at the wheel
And then again
In it's current condition
Sustainded disrepair
I'd say this house is falling down
Ripe for torching, then
A single cigarette falls
From a sleeping hand and
Softly, softly, softly I will slip away
And fade until I a**ume complete transparency
Softly, softly, softly I will slip away
And then into the ether where I belong