He carries the sun in his pocket
Wears the moon on his skin
Dodges the nuclear bullets
Everybody’s aiming at him
Won’t marry the wet earth
Though maybe he longs to
Fashioning glass walls around him
And running his tongue through
Night will still his cry
But how can I
He sits in the darkening wasteland
Throne of black senseless stone
Watching the firefly visions
Played out in last monochrome
You may think all you want to
The best thing to think is nothing
Still you’ll always hear it
His dark cruel primal scream
Night will steal his cry
But how can I
Newclear pastels wash over him
My vision is impaired but I see
You’re not as real as you seem
Just something I dreamed
Night time can be fun
but day time
oh, day time...
...I carry the moon in my satchel
Wear the sun on my skin
Dodge the tarts and the pastries
But still get some on my chin
Morning brings the rain
Wash the fag ends down the drain
Tuesday I can catch the train
I’m in love again
Yeah yeah
© Mark Underwood
Special thanks to Mark Underwood (www.yetiintelligence.com) for the permission to reproduce the lyrics here.
Back to NewClear page.
| NewClear is available at Amazon.com |
Website designed and maintained by Noëlle
Contact Euan | Contact the webmistress | Feedback | Site map
Copyright © 2002 -
euanmorton.com. All rights reserved.
No part of this website shall be reproduced without written permission from the publisher.
and 