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