Bill Ward
pink clouds an island
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Pink clouds, an island.
It's a place
Where I can hide.
Selfishly I cling to
Parts of me
I'm afraid I might find.
Pink clouds, an island,
It insulates me
From letting you know
That I'm quietly dying.
I live here
When I don't want to grow.
I'm alone
Out here again.
Goodbye, over,
And It really doesn't matter,
Matter.
(Repeat Chorus)
And it really doesn't matter
Matter.
And it really doesn't matter
Matter.
And it really doesn't matter
Matter.
And it really doesn't matter
Matter.