Fuchsia I hear the public toilets are closed you make faces when you clean the sand out from between your toes Boxing crosses boundaries so does fighting with your shadow

Young sap scrapping in the middle of the square

Quare ones feast their beads until they are partially full

Yellow blinds are drawn

Kitchen knives are melted down into coins

And there is one for every member of the rabble

Loneliness is part of living

I shall run from it no more

Your attitude is unforgiving

And when I sneer you seem to like me more

Drinking in the milk of the sun

Lying in a thirsty ditch

Nose bleeds are all you need when you're dying of embarrassment

I've had my fill of miracles

of miracles I've had my fill

Fractured tiles falling to the earth

The workman in workman's clothes he's had his fill

So fling him into the back of the taxi driver

Memories tacked on wardrobe door exalting

Some ecstatic claim that on such nights

As nights like these we lent our lights to sacred flame

Loneliness is part of living

I shall hide from it no more

Your attitude is unforgiving

And when I sneer you seem to like me more

Drinking in the milk of the yellow sun

Lying in a thirsty ditch

Nose bleeds are all you need when you're dying of embarrassment

I've had my fill of miracles of miracles I've had my fill

I've had my fill of miracles of miracles I've had my fill