There's a haze on the skyline, to wish me on my way
And there's a note on the telephone some roses on a
tray
And the motorway's stretching right out to us all
as I pull on my old wings one white duck
on your wall
Isn't it just too damn real
I'll catch a ride on your violin strung upon your bow
And I'll float on your melody sing your chorus soft
and low
There's a picture view postcard to say that I called
You can see from the fireplace, one white duck
on your wall
Isn't it just too damn real
So fly away Peter and fly away Paul from the
finger tip ledge of contentment
The long restless rustle of high heeled boots calls
And I'm probably bound to deceive you after all
Something must be wrong with me and my brain
if I'm so patently unrewarding
But my dreams are for dreaming and best left that
way and my zero to your power of ten equals
nothing at all
There's no double lock defense there's no chain on my door
I'm available for consultation
But remember your way in is also my way out, and
love's four letter word is no compensation
Well, I'm the Black Ace dog handler I'm a waiter on
skates so don't you jump to your foreskin conclusion
Because I'm up to my deaf ears in cold breakfast trays
to be cleared before I can dine on your sweet Sunday
lunch confusion