Blank State - The Arrivals

Moderation is a lucky friend

Out of trouble, straightened lines

Clean your teeth and get to bed on time

Can’t recall why i’ve been so afraid

Of the dim and quiet life

Head in the clouds and both feet in my grave

Bang, bang goes the little clock again

It will want you always

Troubles, troubles

One can’t comprehend

Why every game you play is rigged

Did young john mellor ever lose a day?

Found himself in bed and like a car crash wonder how he’s walked away?

I declare the past the enemy

Things much better left unsaid

Are dead and gone and they can’t bother me

Bang, bang goes the little clock again

It’ll haunt you always

Co-conspirators and sordid friends

Have we another round to give?

Precious rites

Hapless call

Lost in the magic of it all

Know this feeling, feeling on the mend

Know the promise, know the lie

Know the fall and never question why

Light a candle to that solemn saint

Patron of the turning leaf

On and on and on forever

Bang, bang, bang goes the little clock again

It’ll haunt you always

World of wonder one can’t comprehend

Why every game you play is rigged

Precious rites

Hapless call

Lost in the mystery of it all

All things real really do fade away