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Slow Graffiti
Belle
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There's a portrait in a backroom
Which I keep for days upon
Which I relent
And gaze for hours on the muscle skin and bone
Of some imaginary friend
So how about it?
Show me please how I will look in twenty years
And let me please
Interpret history in every line and scar that's painted
There in front of me
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It doesn't matter what I'm thinking
What I tell myself to do
I'll end up calling
I stay in to defrost the fridge
Now the kid has gone to bed
A feeling of dread
At least when she's around the troubles there
It's worse to wake up with her falling round the room
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Listen Johnny, you're like a mother
To the girl you've fallen for
And you're still falling
Listen Johnny, you're like a mother
To the girl you've fallen for
And you're still falling
And if they come tonight
You'll roll up tight
And take whatever's coming to you, boy
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