Wheels rumble through floorboards at night,
Every time an engine goes by,
and the lamp from the street beams into the curtains,
it’s a dreary evening,
a sombre feeling,
Slugs come out from the cracks in the kitchen,
the neighbours are yelling about the mystery lady,
the cafes and restaurants they’re beaming with life,
loud clanks of glasses and chattering all night,
I’m stood in the road,
Lights flash me by,
in the middle of the lane along with the cat’s eyes,
there’s a beat in my chest and it keeps me alive,
its the panic of living and the panic to die.

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