Boxgrove Man

Cold here don’t be afraid That’s angels for you Think they ran away Empire, exhausted seam Got a few years behind you And a few years in front of you Not many dreams And maybe inside of you There’s a sickness that’s running deep Deep down into bone And you’re unaware I’ve gone to ground I’m lost and I wanna be found Cold here but having fun That’s angels for you The canvas runs I hold your hand In the movie’s last reel In the pit of the fleapit On the iron wheel Cold now but unafraid Lay your head on the ground Let it fall away I’ll hold your hand They say we don’t like touching We don’t like talking We don’t like laughing A good day’s worth celebrating I don’t like pleading Don’t like believing We don’t like touching We don’t like thinking We don’t like touching We don’t like fucking