Taken off my very old and battered gatefold sleeved fathoms This city never sleeps, This city runs the clock with every God given hour, No time to stop and think, No time for anything but tomorrows dress and yesterdays news. Waiting for the dawn, I see patterns forming, under currents running, screaming in my ears. The city smokes and roars, this Is what we struggled for, and the weak at the wall get no answers, for now. And I found a picture of you, Hidden away in the the pages at the back Of my mind. And all the things you said, promised me that would never come true Came with the morning, this morning. Cars slide past and blind Into winters' heart as madness streams across this land. Rising with the dawn, The voice of treason, singing and screaming through electric air. And I found a picture of you, Hidden in pages at the back, of my mind. At the back of my mind. Gulls fly to the canopy It's old and grey Like your face Today. Hope this helps, happy singing!