I still feel the tops of the grass blades
Tickling the back of my calves
As we discuss in motion the very foundations
That make our reactionary impulses
Stick our fingernails inside of the unsaid
And analyse the stains
Most wouldn’t of gotten their hands of their pockets
And I’m glad, I couldn’t wait for them to shut up

We follow the dyes with our fingers on the bathroom tiles
And we spot all the faces in the swirls
I can’t stand it when they look with vacant stares
What will it take for them to come alive?

I know all we need to spend a lifetime
In a empty room with the walls a perfect white
Is just a bouncy ball from the 20 pence machine
And we’d strave off insanity for years