The colour starts to fade from rose to grey
As day begins to deepen into night
And dwindling ever out of sight
Are those I met along the way.

For all becomes a paler shade of white
When all the pages written in life's book
Become blank - not worth a look -
And when frost begins to bite

Through the lining of your heart.
What's left to be done?
Where's left to be gone?
When you're tired of being a part

Of a world turned diamond-hard
And all senses lose their touch
And all people need the crutch
Of house and job and barclaycard

To give them reasons for their life
To tell them who and what they are
And so they play their parts
And all their hearts grow ice.

Where's left to go, what's left to do?
When no-one speaks each to each
And nothing's left to seek -
Strip all bare; and all that's left is you.
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