Driven home back from the city.
lead grey sky come wash us nearly.
can't you see there's no horizon?
in this speeding place called london.

i don't think that this makes too much sense.
dampened soul come called fron slumber.
woken up; calmed like no other.
as you moan you'll hear my laughter
you grow old, i grow young faster.

i don't think that this makes too much sense.
can't you see?

i'm all used up.
i need somebody to come and feed me.