Steven Wilson Luminol
Here we all are
Born into a struggle
To come so far
But end up returning to dust
Oxfam (?) and tipsy's head
laces undone
He has no truck with idle chat
work to be done
The songs he learned from scratched LPs
Stops him mid-flow to sip his tea
The chords he plays with lesser grace
Songs we all know
Each passing year etched on his face
Sun, rain, and snow
The words he sings are not his own
We speak of things he'll never know
