Lying on my bed I was reading french. With the light too bright for my senses. From this hiding place life was way too much. It was loud and rough round the edges. So I faced the wall when an old man called. Out of dreams that I would die there. But a sight unseen you were pulling strings. And you had a different idea. I was like a child I was light as straw. When my father lifted me up there. Took me to a place where they checked my body. My soul was floating in thin air. I clung to the bed and I clung to the past. And I clung to the welcome darkness. But at the end of the night. There's a green green light. It's the quiet before the madness. There was a girl that sang like the chime of a bell. She put out her arm and she touched me when I was in hell. Someone sang a song and I sang along. Cause I knew the words from my childhood. Intellect ambition they fell away. They locked me up for my own good. But I didn't mind cause the silence was kind. And you spoke to me in whispers. There was the sound of the wind in the cold cold dawn. And the quiet hum of business. Let me dangle a while in this waiting room. I don't need to go I don't need to know what your doing. Lying on my side you were half awake and your face was tired and crumpled. If I had a camera I'd snap you now cos there's beauty in every stumble. We are out of practise we're out of sight. On the edge of nobody's empire. If we live by books and we live by hope. Does that make us targets for gunfire?. Now I look at you you're a mother of two. You're a quiet revolution. Marching with the crowd singing dirty and loud. For the people's emancipation. Did I do ok did I pave the way. Was I strong when you were wanting. I was tied to the yoke with a decent bloke. Who was stern but never daunting. And he told me to push and he made me feel well. And he told me to leave that vision of hell to the dying