Woorden: Divine Comedy. Lost Property.

Postcards and letters, T-shirts and sweaters
Passports and Parkas, mobiles and chargers
Two tennis rackets, Blue Rizla packets
A new sheep-skin jacket, I lost it all

All through my life there have been
Many rare and precious things
I have tried to call mine
But I just cannot seem

To keep hold of anything
For more than a short time
Possessions of a sentimental kind
They were mine, now they're not

Gym-kits and trainers, asthma inhalers
Silk-cuts and Bennie's, ten-packs and twenties
C-class narcotics, antibiotics
The holes in my pockets, I lost it all

All that I'd like is to know
Just where do those lost things go?
When they slip from my hands
Then one night in a dream

I passed through a sheepskin screen
To a green, pleasant land
I found them all piled up into the sky
And I cried tears of joy