Anne Clark Lovers Retreat
Look at your young faces They're growing older with each moment Harder and less beautiful With every word we say Stumbling over bridges And through the backstreets Waiting for some thing But we don't knoe what It could be a promise It could be passion Eternal life Or instant death Wading through rubbish And dodging choc-a-block cars Through the door and up the stairs We'll find some moments of happiness Between shets we've knownso often The warmest place in this hostile town Afterwads, through dust and comfort filled eyes We can look upwadrs And almost stare at the stars
