Our lives slowly unravel |
| Like wool pulled from sweaters |
| We'll knit something new somewhere else, so forget us. |
| We are the Leavers |
| You'll stay and we'll travel |
| You'll know where you are, always |
| We'll be vague in our jumble of days |
| We can never be sure |
| But be sure of one thing |
| When the thrills are all done |
| We'll be gone. |
The Remainers can try to persuade us, and tame us |
| And train us and save us and keep us at home |
| As we try to fit in with the family life |
| The mind-numbing comedown |
| The trouble and strife |
| All the misunderstandings, defensive attacks |
| The walls we don't dare relax |
| And the hurt in your eyes, I know you know that I pray |
| For the phone-call that takes me away |
We won't be much use to you dead |