No fancy paper, no fountain pen
not even a card from me to send...

Christmas gifts, cold asses and sniffs
warm Christmas pud and whiskey nips...

My tears in ink
through paper gracefully sink...

She likes solitude to dream in
she likes mystery in all it's guises...

I dig my heels into the dirt
'Cause this one's gonna hurt...

To whom it may concern,
I write this letter to my heart...

THE BRITISH SOLDIER
In a station in the city a British soldier stood...

(not mine, but just thought I'd post, it was...
SLEEP TO DREAM...

Behind a cunning smile
I protect the real true me...

This soul lost, bides time to be uncovered
This soul stolen, holds back from being retrieved...

Understanding and attentive
your encouragement arouses awe...

BEHIND GREEN EYES
Behind green eyes...