When my first marriage fell apart I choose to leave with nothing but my clothes and a few personal posessions. The heady air of freedom that I felt was enough for me and I knew she felt the same.


From a house in the middle of nowhere
To a space by the side of the road
He had travelled with little to talk of
He was thinking of seeds he had sowed
She had once cooked him food that was welcome
He had bought her a necklace of fire
But now they were seperate and damaged
Would the angels still sing in his choir

Too many angels were leaving
Too many prophets had lied
He thought that he could still outrun them
But the distance would be denied
Too many angels were crying
Too many words thrown into the air
Its just a case of mistaken identity
Everything just a blur

He woke in a park by the river
His body was aching and cold
He thought of his kitchen and coffee
And the woman who had taken his home
She was easily pleased by his absence
She was happy a space had appeared
The days were now quiet and humble
There was nothing that she had to fear