You live on the edge of a knife
Nothing resolves
Whatever you touch is sand
It drains from you
Until you can't put a price on anything
You feel like a supermarket that's afraid to open
But glass breaks
Shapes change
Nothing waits for you
Nothing waits
I'm just a poet man, always alive
I'm just a poet man, always survive
With feelings, meaning and notions
The usual poem put in motion
People are deserting language in their hundreds
You might as well speak Latin
You might as well write Greek
You're a joke who put his punchline in his pocket
But couldn't find it when the time came
And then the time came, and came again, and again
Like a bad dream, like a passion
It's only fashion
Like a passion
It's only fashion
I'm just a poet man, always alive
I'm just a poet man, always survive
With feelings, meaning and notions
The usual poem put in motion
You're gonna pull though
Fix it, find success and true happiness
The right brand of cigarette to start you smoking again
The right brand of drink to make you daily drunk
The right blend of compromises to make you famous
But each day rips its own pages from the book
You stand in a windy street waiting for a bus
It's the wrong stop, the wrong fare in your hand
The wrong time of day
You decide to walk, knowing it's too far
The right bus pulls up just after you've gone
The right money was in your pocket all the time
You're walking nowhere, into a mirror
Always face-to-face with yourself
You live on the edge of a knife
Nothing resolves
Nothing resolves