It was a dream I had
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This room was in the middle of a sandy plain
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The walls were gone but the doors and windows remained
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At the side of the bed were soft cushions
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Two-dimensional ships like ocean liners sailed across this desert
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As they passed, their huge bulks disappearing into a thin line
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These ships were always full of people facing windows
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And sometimes find their problems seem like a day's work
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Following deep tracks, the boats kept passing by
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Came to an unmanned sort of harbour
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Stood on the sand in no water
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[ ? ] lowered its doors
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And one by one the ships descended to the sand
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And sailed off in different directions across the desert
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The carrier was then refilled with ships arriving in perfect time
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I watched seven or eight of these drop-offs
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And realised the process, the ships and the people within them never differed
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I thought about following any of these ships to the end of their journey
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But suspected I would end up back here
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Or a place so similar that I wouldn't be able to tell the difference
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I can't sleep in this bed anymore
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It's like a padded cell
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The sheets are too tight
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[ ? ]
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A man of your success
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I'm tired of it
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[ ? ]
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Walked over to the window
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Climbed on the window-ledge
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And jumped out
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I wasn't scared
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I know I can fly
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A quiff, a whiff of smoke, an empty egg
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Roses north (I don't know how long we'd been waiting)
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A front room (Endless hours, weeks, years even)
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Lino, yellow formica (We didn't know)
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Lots of milky tea (Only onward, forward, inward, in, over a field) (I don't want to do this)
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Unmatched to match the unmatched plates (The sun sets in the west) (I really really really don't want to do this)
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Straight-backed chairs (This is where we started each night) (You made me do it)
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Steamy glass-pane window (We could only travel at night) (Bang bang bang on the door)
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Warped door, Embassy No. 6 ashtray (We would conceal ourselves in the missing light `till darkness fell) (I awoke, ran downstairs)
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Chewy chop (Nobody knew where we were) (A letter dropped to the floor)
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Toasted cob, mustard (Where we were going) (I bent, reached)
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Crinkly-cut chips, bendy fork (A vague sense of direction) (Swang open)
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Polyester, pink gingham ([ ? ]) (Cracked my head)
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(Nothing told us where we were) (Unconscious fell)
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(We always somehow managed to keep a straight line) (I awoke, the dog)
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(Licking my dick)
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Paco De Renaldo's Dream
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Tindersticks |