Get out before it rains,
cause you'll be stuck inside as I precipitate
and if I drip my fears on you,
I cannot change your mind your just another toy playing a fool.
I'll take you round my Blue Remembered Hills,
and show you my pitfalls,
don't step where I stood before,
but breath it all in,
cause the air is thin in the future.
Point the way,
no need to be pretentious,
I know the steps that you take,
are made of Good Intentions.
I gotta up sticks,
but what's the point in moving?
At the back of the line,
all my efforts no use,
I get a high rise, short demise,
confused minds intent on needings.
As I look on the headline,
I can see my reflection,
with my useless skills lacking sense of action,
maybe now I can avoid my redemption,
if she keeps giving me these Good Intentions.
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