I got your message today
I'm sorry what happened to you
It shouldn't have to be that way
I f*cked my jeans and blue and grey shirt
My fancy shoes are covered in dirt
I can't get any work
Since I've been here I get lost a lot
I'm like a worn-out beat found in St. James Park
Or Prospect Park
Out there in the dark
An arcade from the warm, warm rain that falls
An arcade from the warm, warm rain that falls
Broadcasts of an empty heart
The punctures made by the stagger's darts will mark you again
I'm sorry again for the mess that you're in
Without me there should be one mess less
You can start your life over
Aerial hums full of lovers and chums
I hope you're alright, warm in the night in the park
In Finsbury Park
And your broken heart
An arcade from the warm, warm rain that falls
An arcade from the warm, warm rain that falls
These words I send to an old friend