Fifty Drawbridge Moats

It held one man hostage
He tied his own restraints
He didn't howl in that hour
Bowtie couldn't cut him loose
The war blew on his hot drink
The stitch it couldn't be sown
The bus don't pass by so often
And he no traffic cone
He at bus stop alone

Look he's lay in casts his pots and pans won't wash themselves
When will she blossom once again
Around him Fifty Drawbridge Moats
A toad is looking back
The princess off on down the track
Her head on his lap under tree
Blade of grass ascends her knee
Years away his pilgrim soul

He forgot about the oven
With all his high cards inside
Papers say he pierced gas pipe
Then went off to the Inn
But his insurance ain't valid
He didn't read the small print
Clambering flames to save pictures
Howling curse at the moon
Her flying past on her broom

Look it's overcast
His umbrella is his mast
No time for board games with old friends
Around him Fifty Draw Bridge Moats
He's sat in his wardrobe with a peep hole crack of light
She feels no collar on her neck
He'll be counting down the year for her hologram to disappear

Go back to your old bed, go back to your old bed, poor boy
Go back to your old bedroom boy
With your cartoon sheets and your lava lamp
And your supermarket singles and your Disney Films
And your football kit and your Action Man
And your PlayStation One and your toy guitar
Yet still yearns away his pilgrim soul