This squat’s not getting any warmer, underneath that darkened London sky.
The leak in the roof is getting worse. I hear it dripping all night. And I can’t bring myself to get out of bed, or even open up my eyes. These dark crowded streets are haunting me, try to drag me down to the Thames so I can jump inside.
And I’ll sink down underneath, while the top freezes with ice two feet thick. I’m even drowning in my dreams. I want to float to the top so they can bury me.
I don’t think I can take this much longer, feels like I’m holding my breath. This squat feels like it bound to collapse with every bus that passes. And I have seen a better way for us to live. But will you take my hand and follow me back to the wilderness?
Otherwise we’ll sink down underneath, while the top freezes with ice two feet thick. Even drowning in my dreams, I want to float to the top so they can bury me.
Well I know that you might be comfortable in your own misery, but I’m going back to the woods whether or not you follow me. And I’ll be there among the trees on out on my own, but if you stumble down my trail well you’re welcome to call this home.