Day after day, love turns grey
Like the skin of a dying man
And night after night we pretend it's all right
But I have grown older and
You have grown colder and
Nothing is very much fun any more.
And I can feel one of my turns coming on.
I feel cold as a razor blade
Tight as a tourniquet
Dry as a funeral drum

Run to the bedroom, in the suitcase on the left
You'll find my favourite axe
Don't look so frightened
This is just a passing phase
Just one of my bad days
Would you like to watch T.V. ?
Or get between the sheets
Or contemplate the silent freeway ?

To be continued...