Who will follow on from one who ****** the diamond and the dollar, who will seek the holy grail until the end of a tomorrow, who will fall with failing eyesight never seeing his Nirvana, will the mountain and Mohammed come to some form of agreement?
she sent me unsigned colour postcards from a place called Alicante
and I never knew her name or who it was that she was meant to be,
but the scenery was perfect and the beaches were all pristine and the ocean was a mirror reflecting things I wish I could have seen
and when you think you're being saved
you know the saviour cannot see you
because the harbour lights will blind him
and when you find it hard to find him in
the shadows that are broken in the waves of
voices breaking on the pristine beaches
faking it,
you know that it is taking you away.