Feed Me
DOMINIC JOSEPH GREENSMITH, GARY PAUL STRINGER, JOHN DAVID BESSANT, KENWYN JOHN HOUSE
Driven home back from the city.
Lead gray sky come wash us nearly.
Can't you see there's no horizon?
In this speeding place called London.
I don't think that this makes too much sense.
Dampened soul come called fron slumber.
Woken up; calmed like no other.
As you moan you'll hear my laughter
You grow old, I grow young faster.
I don't think that this makes too much sense.
Can't you see?
I'm all used up.
I need somebody to come and feed me.