Never caught your accent.

Well I never caught your accent 

blushing in the meadow

Whilst chewing over the wood turned 

hypocrisy they made into the table.


The regiments colours the globe 

Beneath the surface of Infamous sun.

Falling for spooks placed up there

In heavens gate. 


Relaying back Bleaching acts of recycled 


And if everywhere’s a hotel maybe 

This is where a Bow was tied to forget

spending the night Painting towns 

tiles red.