CITYSCAPE

WINE MANGLING THEIR WORDS

ACES UP YOUR SLEEVE

AND SO ON

WIND WILL COME SWEEP ME ALONG

DON’T LET THOSE FOOTHOLDS START

RIDING THE BREAKS

DON’T GO TOO FAR

CARRIED ON WITHOUT A COMMA

THROWING OUT MY ARMS

THE MEANING GOES PAST

LISTENING TOO FAST

ALL THE THINGS THAT NO ONE EVER SAID

LUNCH ON THE GRASS

WITCHING HOUR

BUILT YOURSELF A MYTH

WE ARE BOTH CREATURES DEPENDING ON THE TIME AND CIRCUMSTANCE