When you're living life like a film frame
+feeling like a no name same game
prophet of fame looking up to
the greatest artist 'til Damien Hirst
to push things futher on covering
repeats of the first
sung new song
play out loud it won't be long
now 'til daddy comes home
with the alcohol foam on his moustache
mistaken past coming fast out his mouth
through his fist on the body of the girl
he once kissed between the freedom
that he missed through marriage.

So why do I wear this hat,
'cos it's cold?
Or the stories I'd been told
as a child to keep
me warm in a blanket of hope
a backwards telescope
shrinking things down to a
bitesized chunk (of toast
made to dunk in my egg
in the daydawning yawning morning
family meal with james trying to steal
the attention of our mum to stop
her tears)
dreamed for years of a life
on the road, make some money
play some music
saying isn't it funny
how it alll turned out like I thought
but don't get caught out just yet
on my words like birds
flying out of this mouth it's not true, it's
nothing like that, I'm just thinking through,
why do I wear this hat?