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Last Frame

Pretty keen, yes, my hobby keeps me busy

And if I talk to myself, that's not a crime

In the darkroom I am a dealer in space and time

When all memory has mellowed

When the photograph is yellowed, still it never liesThere you are, your lies laced with secret pleasure

Saying that you're on the way to change

Devouring in inordinate measure

Every diversion that's arrangedFor every appetite, a cruel attraction

But there's a panic in your actions

Oh, I never saw you look so strangeFixing memory chemically, holding time on the stop-clock

Hanging back from that last frame

Just in case it doesn't show you in the way I used to know you

Oh, I thought you'd always stay the sameOh, the red light, the silver, the black and the bromide

Oh, the silence, the waiting for overview

The past seems under-exposed, low tide

Still the images ghost throughAnd you're there in the bath

Which is all this has led through

And I can't say your path is a right one to choose

But then I only have a negative of you

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