And it seems like nothing can penetrate through the outer skin Crouched in cold on a slate-grey day in the southern world Self-obsessed on a crumbling couch for hours Quite alone as is usual for the things we are Quite unable to go beyond what's ours And it feels like nothing on Earth has ever got in Locked for life with a friend I've known for a thousand years Known like no-one I've ever known before We're as close as two coats on paint on a windswept wall But we'll never know what sits at the other's core