There's a haze on the skyline, to wish me on my way.
And there's a note on the telephone --- some roses on a
Tray.
And the motorway's stretching right out to us all,
As I pull on my old wings --- one white duck
On your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?
I'll catch a ride on your violin --- strung upon your bow.
And I'll float on your melody --- sing your chorus soft
And low.
There's a picture-view postcard to say that I called.
You can see from the fireplace, one white duck
On your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?
So fly away peter and fly away paul --- from the
Finger-tip ledge of contentment.
The long restless rustle of high-heeled boots calls.
And I'm probably bound to deceive you after all.

Something must be wrong with me and my brain ---
If I'm so patently unrewarding.
But my dreams are for dreaming and best left that
Way --- and my zero to your power of ten equals
Nothing at all.

There's no double-lock defense; there's no chain on my door.
I'm available for consultation,
But remember your way in is also my way out, and
Love's four-letter word is no compensation.

Well, I'm the black ace dog-handler: I'm a waiter on
Skates --- so don't you jump to your foreskin conclusion.
Because I'm up to my deaf ears in cold breakfast trays ---
To be cleared before I can dine on your sweet sunday
Lunch confusion.

• Baker Street Muse
• Black Satin Dancer
• Cold Wind to Valhalla
• Grace
• March The Mad Scientist
• Minstrel in The Gallery
• One White Duck/0=nothing at All
• Requiem
• Summerday Sands