Winston Smith

You might see, snow drenched roof tops
A stalagtite falls to the alley like an arrow from cupid into you
The world has stopped
And it's pretty as a picture

You might not notice
How cold it gets when the gin runs out and history is born again
You can't even think
How you wanna be with her

Well here we are darling, jam never tasted so good
Nothing ever felt so warm as you, above this old world shop
With it's old world trinkets
But how dare we even think it

When there's a cardboard box
With shivering feet full of distant memories and nearby fantasies
Of good heels and cashmere socks
There's a cold war on the world

That's what I heard

I opened up
Told her I'm lonely
I said don't you know me
She said who're you talking to?
Her memory's faded
Irradicated
She's been infiltrated
But oh how I waited
Because I know there's something
I just can't get to it
I wasted years
But I'll held you near
And I tasted fear
And how I held you near
And I fought the combine
Until they let me outside
Where it was pretty as a picture