We’ll wander up
To Beachy Head,
And watch the sun go down.
Picnic songs, and
Hippie bongs…
I swear that we
won’t drown.

We’ll take a plane
To Mount Fiji,
And camp for days on end.
Marshmallow toasts, we’ll …
Laugh at ghosts
And just might
start to mend.

We’ll perch up on
That Golden Gate,
And watch the waves roll by.
I’ll hold you back,
Keep me on track
We’ll never have
to die.

And if we wait for long enough -
On a ‘golden’ bridge of red.
Perhaps the wind will keep us still,
And hold us from the dead.

Perhaps the cliffs of chalky white,
Will wake our hearts to bear the night …

And all those trees will change the ways
Of our ritual Aokigahara days

But, God, we’ll keep on wanting it,
And when the pills are done -
Perhaps we’ll boost this city up
To hot-spot number one.