Naevus - Traffic Island Lyrics

The focus of my pleasure
Is out there, upon the tip
Of the situations
Where conscience spreads its grip
Beyond its proper place
And where reason is in thrall
To all that's retrospective
Futuristic or banal

Bring it all on back to me
In painful episodes
No-one ever blessed
An adequate place to sit and gloat
Things will not transfer themselves
Away into the past
Because it is a dirty
And forever changing beast

I'm sorry that I laughed
At your existential dance
And derided verdicts
That I'd hoped would never last
At the end of what remains
Of feelings and of actions
I run roughshod over the edges
Of this traffic island