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
