Scenes That Echo

Paid my dues living through the drought I don't care about profit or a ticket tout I'm masculine and I sleep alone I wonder who the Fuck wrote 'home sweet home'

Living through a lie to echo every word a ghost has said

Honey bees and cinnamon and cloves are burning by my bed

Comfort me with ornaments and I won't make it home tonight

Jealousy it forms to last and lives inside these Belfast bands Boasting offers of salaries as if it's made to make me quit my dreams

But I have seen these scenes that echo through the bombed out blitzed out streets There's comfort in the messages that I receive from passed on queens

But don't count me out just yet you might leave your dreams behind I won't leave mine!