And gently we trickle
in amongst the crowd...

Griping on with claws and fangs
making patterns with old worn brands...

"Your all feckin mad
every last one of ya...

This calm and welcomed soul
why must I dispute...

Washed up from the rain
held but disdained...

Come and see me i'm beautiful
before I go to waste...

I'm not the man I thought i'd be
not like you, my friend...

Shattered, beaten, battered and bruised
I'll live this curse, there's nothing to lose...

I'd pick a pocket just for you
poach a soul and stick it on with glue...

Let me take you by the hand
i'll show you love...

Forget my woes
yet for the sake of grace...

This sin has been cast
and demons I pass...