Stepping Out In Front Of Cars

Can’t stand the birdsong, can’t stand the TV
Can’t stand the radio jammed on your frequency
Can’t stand my music, It’s every barre
Cuts another scar

Can’t stand the questions, X times and add Y
There are no answers that could ever satisfy
Can’t spit the words out to buy cigarettes
I’m seeing stars
And stepping out in front of cars

Can’t stand my sentence, pure solitary
Can’t stand my freedom, freedom is misery
The cage is open, but I’m too conditioned
To go too far

Can’t stand the ocean, it keeps calling to me
Can’t stand this city, and everything it’s done to me
I can’t stand still, a kiss of death
Brushes my arm
I’m stepping out in front of cars

Every back street and every corner turned
Rolls a ghost scene on automatic replay
Taken back, breaking back again
Powerless, condemned to watch the scene unfold

Can’t stand your sweet voice, whispering softly
Can’t stand this silence, why can’t you talk to me?
Can’t stand my telephone, nobody calls
But it’s always charged
I’m stepping out in front of cars

Can’t face my loved ones, though they’re all there for me
Can’t face the death wish of my own company
Time, it stands still, when I step out
In front of cars
So I can wonder where you are

 

(Copyright Mark James Pearson)