Pictures from the past
Together in a photograph...

A black screen fades to light
And draws the text to the eye...

There’s a madman in my block of flats
He writes obscenities on the wall...

There’s singles in your area and they want to...
And by the look of their pictures you’re in for...

The path still calls me
The dark forest and the heart tree...

Watching a bare tree
And the rope that hangs from it...

I need to be cleanly
I want to be free...

Ghost man go slow
Neck tie to necro...

Carve me a smile my creator
Give me a warm loving grin...

There is a colour that I no longer seem to see
There is a chain I wear whenever I am free...

In day with sun low and beaming
I beheld a fellow dreaming...

Through nets as fine as spider web
His bloodshot eyes covet their meal...