I think your songs are destroying my originality
I think I’m being suffocated by your genius
I called this meeting this morning
The wind’s so cold this morning

So where am I now?
Am I any further forward?
I just keep running forward
It’s the only place to go anymore
There’s dragons over that hill
Over towards Damascus Way
Or so I’m told.
They might not like this
I’m too ordinary
Where’s the origin?
Where’s my start?
What form am I taking?
Will it ever change?
I should stop asking myself questions
Life’s too short I’m told
There’s no art I’m told
Only the ordinary and the ghosts.
The garden is too well kept
And down Damascus Way
The pixies are well behaved
But the Way sold me ragged
And they poisoned my tongue
I should stop dwelling on the past
The past is too long ago
I wouldn’t like to remember
The day I met Damascus Way.