Feed Me

Driven home back from the city. Lead grey sky come wash us nearly. Can't you see there's no horizon? In this speeding place called London. I don't think that this makes too much sense. Dampened soul come called fron slumber. Woken up; calmed like no other. As you moan you'll hear my laughter You grow old, I grow young faster. I don't think that this makes too much sense. Can't you see? I'm all used up. I need somebody to come and feed me.