Smoke, rain
Smoke,
rain
I'm a rent collector walking down a dead end street
I'm a mother sleeping
streets.
My umbrella's upside down,
no pennies and pounds for me.
A
cradle-batching man walking
down the street,
like a dark river,
like a dark river.
On my modest evening,
like the
coast of Pendlebury, I'm painting every night.
1984,
I keep the
Esper distrified.
1984,
I keep the Esper distrified.
The clocks in my room,
they all have different times.
I don't wanna know the real time.
Ticking.
Ticking.
Ticking.
Ticking.
I am painting the sea.
