Zoe 25 - Fish

He struggles to the breakfast table, still hung-over, hardly able

To come to terms with Monday’s new demands

To activate the microwave, to reheat Friday’s take away

The cafetiere to muster up some coffee from the grains

He lights the next last cigarette and promises himself

As he retches in the sink, to change his ways

He dreams inside the sun

Of Zoë, from London, 25

She’s foetal on the foldaway, staring at the laundry in the corner

That she should have done the night before

Listening to her flat mate singing Stones' songs in the shower

She hopes she leaves hot water when the bathroom’s finally free

Where she cries into the mirror and smudges her mascara

She’s Zoë, from London, 25

When you’re looking for somebody, you might not even see them

When they’re standing there in front of you, right before your eyes

If you’re looking for somebody you’re gonna need some help

You know you’ll never find her when you’re looking for yourself

He races to the subway station, out of breath and out of options;

He couldn’t make the phone call to explain himself away

He’s locked in a reality that’s taking time to sink in

Because he’s lost inside a daydream his mind is occupied

He turns his back on everybody, on Zoë from London 25

When you’re looking for somebody, you might not even see them

When they’re standing there in front of you, right before your eyes

If you’re looking for somebody you’re gonna need some help

You know you’ll never find her when you’re looking for yourself

She clutches at the broken heel from tripping down the escalator

Chasing her white rabbit through the tunnels far below

Where she moves around invisible, to all concerned anonymous

A dream girl in a nightmare on a journey to the stars

She makes her journey to the stars

At the Micklegate, where you lost your way, and time stood still

At the Micklegate, with my heart in chains, the dream was killed

At the Micklegate, where you lost your way, and time stood still