I'M GOING INSIDE

I'm going inside

Throw my body away the jetty lights

My soulmate fell three floors down, then sang to the sea

To free will, to porpoises...

I can hear him hunting his red melodica,

Far away,

rainy looks.

Childish, not childlike,

Talking rude languages with gentle flawless lisping

We both had a crash.

I'm going inside.

I'm going inside

There's no newspaper at you bathroom.

I can't trust you

She's got pretty dark looks

She'll whistle twice, then dissapear

Then I drift off. She drifts away

But she didn't have a crush

She'll be the kind snowman

One thousand prisms, loud laughters, a witch on the witch-train

five only colours, a million scratches, gray hair and wine...

Adjacent names, ten authors, a cook, criminals and selectors

Where the hell is my carey comb?

I'm going inside

I'm going inside