The Thing of World at Various Roads in Brighton

I was so worried of losing memory

That I wasn't busy making any

Beholden to fate that I don't believe in

Wasting not living

I've moved out of these places

That still live within me

Round the corner where I perform

The performance continues in my room

Rolling myself up that hill

Falling plants from the windowsill

Why leave the house when I'll have to come back

Sit and cry and drink and eat and sleep and distract

I've moved out of these places

That still live within me

Round the corner where I perform

The performance continues in my room

I wasn't myself

I'm still the same

I wasn't myself

I'm still the same

I won't go back to those roads

I won't go back to those houses

I won't go back to those rooms

I won't go back to those times

I won't go back to those roads

I won't go back to those houses

I won't go back to those rooms

I won't go back to those times