Bill Ward Pink Clouds An Island
Pink clouds, an island.
It's a place
Where I can hide.
Selfishly I cling to
Parts of me
I'm afraid I might find.
Pink clouds, an island,
It insulates me
From letting you know
That I'm quietly dying.
I live here
When I don't want to grow.
I'm alone
Out here again.
Goodbye, over,
And It really doesn't matter,
Matter.
[Repeat Chorus]
And it really doesn't matter
Matter.
And it really doesn't matter
Matter.
And it really doesn't matter
Matter.
And it really doesn't matter
Matter.
