Perfect place

Recession - a perfect fit,
Makes no difference where he sits,
Not since they cut the ties,
Put some sadness in his eye.

Promises - come and go,
Soak the sun in drifts of snow,
A qualified butt-collector,
Working for the private sector.

He's seen them go,
Without a trace,
This could be it,
The perfect place.

They took the plans from up my sleeve,
By an architect, on New Years Eve,
There it goes, a new bronze tower,
Washed away with an April shower.

He's seen them go,
Without a trace,
This could be it,
The perfect place.

But, when you've gone,
I'm still here, the only one,
My eyes and my ears,
Will be here 'til I'm gone
And it's still the perfect place,
To rest a tired and weary face,
And it's still the perfect place,
To lose your soul with a trace.

A lived-in face, with a root,
of matted hair, a smiling tooth,
A dirty hand, a pixies nose,
Scratches underneath his clothes.

He's seen them go,
Without a trace,
This could be it,
The perfect place.
He's seen them go,
Without a trace,
This must be it ...