Michael remembers the books and the beds
And the petrol rainbows on the ground
He wants to go back and be someone again

Making a noise in those towns

Michael was lying awake every night

Wanting to be somewhere else
But the morning would come and the dream disappeared
Lost in the dust on the shelves


We're all reaching out for angels
And they are reaching out for us

But it's hard to see them
It's hard for them to see us


Michael believes in life after death
He's saving some dreams for himself
But the morning still comes and the dreams disappear

Lost in the dust on his shelves