Sundays – Medicine

dig down to the earth here outside

lose my mind here any day now

don’t be sad, we’re only half way there

o no, that’s what I call home

you remember the hills we slithered down

“I’m not going anywhere”

you lied

hell on my own

hell here on my own

and don’t go imagining that time is medicine

mark those days & swallow your pills

proud of my wise head on young shoulders

too bad there was nothing there at all

hell on my own

hell here on my own

and it was such a really cold hand

I held as the wind sighed

“I’m not going & how could I lie?”

just be glad there’s no way back there

I need another look at before

though heaven knows how I’d ever

make my way back there

and I need another look at before

although heaven knows how I’d ever

make my way back there

now I know it’s hopeless

and I realise it’s nowhere

hell here on my own