Michael

Michael remembers the books and the beds

And the petrol rainbows on the ground

He wants to go back and be someone again

Making a noise in those towns

Michael was lying awake every night

Wanting to be somewhere else

But the morning would come and the dream disappeared

Lost in the dust on the shelves

We're all reaching out for angels

And they are reaching out for us

But it's hard to see them

It's hard for them to see us

Michael believes in life after death

He's saving some dreams for himself

But the morning still comes and the dreams disappear

Lost in the dust on his shelves