To Be. To Begin. To Be Free. To Be Nothing. Lyrics

My day began with the FourTet song 'Smile around the face'
Well I was at the bus stop zombie rolling a cigarette, I'd woken up late,
I was taking off my headphones to hear this old lady who wanted to talk
She said: "My husband smoked that brand before he died in the World War
And it would be my pleasure,
No, I'd be in your debt
If you let me stand next to you while you smoke your cigarette"
I said: "My second hand smoke is yours"

She wore a faded pink rain mack
Her hair white patchy wisps
And I knew she was really quite old through something I had noticed
Those who are close to Heaven can be picked out of a crowd
By the simple fact that on their heads they wear a cloud
Well this woman wore a cloud...

I finished my cigarette and the bus arrived
I knew that I'd done good by the way the woman smiled
It wasn't anything chemical,
No aroma, scent nor smell
It was the memory of her husband's love the woman had inhaled
And she was complete just for a moment

Well on the bus there was this couple solving clues in a crossword
And they were reading them out loud and some of them I overheard
The clues were not important but something beautiful occurred
I could spell L O V E with the first letter of each word
He put the newspaper on the seat behind
His head moved close to her
So close in fact so very close he was breathing her hair
He need not breathe fresh air

I got off the bus and walked down this little road just off South Ealing
And saw the fence outside the park by which a woman was kneeling
A cardboard box bed and a toilet bowl to rest his head
The tramp who was sleeping there had died and was replaced by flowers instead
But who leaves flowers for the ruined and homeless
But the prostitute that changed his life?
When corporate dreams filled his corporate head he'd been caught cheating by his wife
Well enraged she took his house his car
His money and his kids
So the prostitute she showed him her halo and where her wings were clipped

And her angelic voice he'd never heard Explained life's purpose to the nomad
And she sang profanity
He was alive and he understood
That just to love and he loved her well it would set him free
And he died while he kissed her
And he made her happy
Well I put my hand on her shoulder and said:
"You're complete and you are free"

And I'm still trying to see a little good in everyone I meet
I'm still making up fantasies for people I pass in the street
It's so easy to feel pain in a world full of cities torn by war
Where I see fallen angels you might see junkies and whores
And where I find empty promises you might find the Lord
We're all just seeds in a sack in a gardening store
We mean nothing at all
Because we are just our stories

And maybe I'm singing this right now,
And all you hear is the melody
And maybe that's what makes you free
Well are you!?