Broken free...almost 
Prettier than that butterfly I watch you head off 
through this night sky 
The thought of you lingers like the smoke that's 
drifting from my fingers 
While I sit, I see, there's a tree outside my room 
My face reflected in the pain of this moon 
Outside the cold rain cleanses my soul, 
Whole, the distance between the rooms of my thoughts of 
us all 
Sitting in that room sometimes I get to thinking about 
myself 
Love, where does it come from? 
For days on end I would plead to the moon 
Where can I find someone to strip my flesh back bare to 
where the word begins, 
Strip my flesh back bare to the wind that violates my 
skin 

Washing away, under the sun, I vanish in the street 
heat 
Melting on tar, lost in a wave of cut-throat urban 
values 
Looking for some, getting too few, breathing fumes and 
pipe-dreams 
Sliding, Holding... 

We're up to our necks in it 

Walking the streets of this big shitty gritty city 
On a day when i feel like I'm living too close to the 
big electric light bulb in the sky 
Shy, the rats with wings mingle about my feet 
When I come to meet a man, a forsaken man 
He is alone, he has no home, no family here 
No brother, no mother, no sister, no other 
He cries to me, he is tired 
Where does he send his message? 
To what, to whom, to why, to where does he send it? 
What force is going to mend it? 
If we wished we could help this man and our backs would 
not break 
But hypocrisy only leaves us constantly bended 
He wishes to end it 

The progress that eats the soul of the past 
Demolished, lost and rebuilt 
Dehumanised, regimented 
When nine-to-five's the doctrine 
Give me the sky red behind the grey 
Buildings framed in a sunset 
I'm sliding, holding 
We're up to our necks in it 
We're up to our necks in it (repeat)