Postcard

Here comes greetings from the fires of dusk

from all the places you never dare to walk

you never saw the silent battles on

beneath your tires and beyond your gardens

I was born a walker

into to this world I walk.

And what’s to miss about the old balled chain

imaginary top of the food chain wings

I found more truth in a cheap bottle of wine

I found more life by a burning barrow

I was born a walker

and so away I walk

was born a walker,

and in this world I’ve stop

Run my friend if you think you are free

Duck my friend and cover if you thing you are safe

Here comes greeting from the fire of dusk

From all the thoughts if never dare to think

from all the choices you never dare to make

just a postcard from ground level and go on