the designated streets, have all changed their paces now
and bricks are being sold
Step by step we're heading far, on the
tube to Westminister Road.

cause Russian grammar never looked quite the same
while fading in the paper slots
Though, I do have an empty slot behind me, in the
library corridor.

I see what I want to see,
like it's not what we want,
but I have words stored up, and I don't know
how long we'll stay shambled

You coward idiot, push me into the sea
I'll soon knock your door in.