8 (Circle) - Chicane

Philosophise your figure

What I haven’t held

You called, I came, stayed tall through it all

Fall and fixture just the same thing

Say nothing of my fable, no

What on earth is left to come

Who’s agonised and gnawed through it all

I’m underneath your tongue

I’m standing in your street now

And, and I carry his guitar

And I can’t recall it lightly at all

But I know I’m going in

Too much for me to pick up, no

Not sure what forgiveness is

We’ve galvanised the squall of it all

I can leave behind the harbour

To walk aside your favour

I’m an Actuary King

I’ll keep in a cave, your comfort and all

Unburdened and becoming