Sweetness do away with what you think reality is.
Do away with it all...

Morning is breaking upon a flow of a draft.
morning is growing reaching it hands up towards...

Dont let it get you down!
its need not do this too you, its in your head...

Sitting on an old chair in an old room.
sense of your being lifts the moon...

Whisper your song till the end.
drive me around that golden bend...

How very much I have loved you.
How I tried, my best too give you the good life...

Old house, with old objects.
Like a hideaway...

Everything we passed through.
Everything we saw...

The sun will rise one last time.
Too the top of cliff plateau I have climbed...

The whispers are getting louder,
The whispers are getting louder...

You turn and say I wish I was perfect,
You say you wish you where less than nine stone...

He was a wannabe music journalist,
A wannabe musician...