Go To Your Apartment Loft, Baby Poem by Mark Heathcote

Go to your apartment loft, baby
I must be worth leaving
Even though you can see
That my heart is bleeding.

Go to your apartment loft, baby
My clown mask is slipping
Even though, I'm still laughing
I'm really, deep down inside crying.

Every river flows backwards from my estate
Winter leaves are swirling, around my feet
I need cover to hide to hibernate away
I need a dark place alone to sleep.

Darling, I'm a tree in winter swaying
Everything is a burden to my roots
One more storm; anymore ridicules
And I shall fall, ooh
In that forest of silence trapped in a noose
Like a dead bird.