Dawn, he's in a postcard of the dawn,
Where the knives of light
have left the dark night tattered & torn.
The firmamental cars
on the highway of the stars
are doing ninety (for your love) -
He's in a corner on the right -
the sole survivor of the night -
& it's you he thinking of.
And you, you only think of him,
dropping him a line
'cos he's got no time to swim.
They're closing all the doors
to his existential shores -
they'll leave him naked & alone -
& you can't help him now,
sinking like a stone...
Running from the snapping jaws,
You know he ain't got time
to pause - there's one last door
between him & you - look out babe,
he'll be coming through (as soon as you admit that 
you're the cause).
Gone, with a squad of crooked creatures -
You saw a film of his escape
But you hardly recognized his features.
His seer's sight had lied
about the other side
no-one was waiting when you arrived.
You dared not hesitate -
even so, you got there late -
Who takes who for one last ride???