I'm lost out in the stars, I'm all alone
in the streets of the city I walk at night
with strange eyes following me
I'm floating through the crowds, paranoid
that spacemen and angels are watching me
and I can't wake up from the dream...
I'm strung out in my room, I'm all junked up
like the voices of angels the morphine
throws blankets over the pain
I'm frightened to be seen, I'm going clean
so I lay in the black room for 7 days
with candles torturing me...
Satellites and twinkling stars
are circling my bedroom wall
and I can feel the curtain fall
I'm sinking into grey
Satellites and twinkling stars
are circling my bedroom wall
and I can feel the curtain fall
I'm sinking into grey
A true hidden treasure of a song writer. This gent has been capturing songs in demo form on old tape recorders since the 80s. . . and he's still capturing his magic sounds in his secret basement. Damien Youth