Washed up from the rain
held but disdained...

Narnia it is, she says
with a bottle of fizz...

Just another drop
Come on man, fill it to the top...

Weep my dear, for it will be your saviour
i'll fight for your corner, please take this last...

Young boy, please don't cry
Never say die but I know why...

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

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

A joy to see these damaged hands
for they show me my truth...

Offer me my soul, and sell me my rights
I'd like not to be free, of torturous shame...

Please take this grain of sand
It's from my desert on the moon...

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

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