Walking past that prison I get shivers down my spine, I need a cup of tea and somewhere warm to sit
But the crossword does my head in, I get stuck on every word, I'm adding characters to make the answers fit
'Preparation for the outside world'- 14 letters, the days keep going by, but I'm not feeling better, I just keep it locked inside

I saw myself through your eyes for 180 weeks
Now I'm trying to learn how to see again, looking through to what's underneath, but the pictures incomplete

Remembering the day that Peters' bakery caught fire. The whole city smelt a bit like bread and burning tires, sitting on the hillside by the car, watching smoke clouds fill a sunny sky, chaos from afar, you said you never ever wanted me to change, and to my detriment, I'm still the fucking same, each deficiency remains

I saw myself through your eyes for 180 weeks
Now I'm trying to learn how to see again, looking through to what's underneath, but the pictures incomplete

So when you look into these eyes, I hope you realise, HMP Durham casts a shadow which belies its real size, as the coward always says, it's much easier to lock the stuff that tears us up away, than to see it every day

I saw myself through your eyes for 180 weeks
Now I'm trying to learn how to see again, looking through to what's underneath, but the pictures incomplete