"Foreign Fields"

We clung onto a girl
Who'd sooth and sing
Through the foreign fields and photogenic dreams
Remember the colours she drew all over your skin
All over your skin

Are you repeating a life you've already seen
There's a chink in the armour from which we breathe
We've reached the end of the folly we've never believed
I thought I'd seen

Blue as the tiny little bruises that tip toe towards our decline
Keep your blonde hair, all your money and mascara in your glare

You're not there, never there, never there, never there

As we started to grow older drinking blissful to the lies
Ignore the cancer, all the witchcraft and reality that we'd find
Belated birthdays, a cut short Christmas, are we better off alive here?
The arrow misses, manufacture an image only then you'll realise

We were never there, never there, never there, never there, never there

Sir David of Laley 2011