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Coordinates: 52°08′50″N 1°31′40″E / 52.1472°N 1.5277°E / 52.1472; 1.5277
Iken is a small village and civil parish in the marshlands of the English county of Suffolk.
It is near the estuary of the River Alde on the North Sea coast and is located south east of Snape and due north of Orford.
The Anchorage, formerly an island in what was a marsh at the edge of the estuary, is the most likely site of Saint Botolph's Abbey, Ikenhoe. During excavations in 1977 Dr Stanley West discovered part of a large stone Saxon cross incorporated into the wall of the Church tower. The Cross was carved with the heads of dogs and wolves, symbols which were traditionally recognised as St Botolph's emblems during the Middle Ages and therefore it is thought that the cross may originally have been a memorial to him.
You've got to clean out the house
Take out all the things you don't want
You know you know to go beyond everything
And not be barred (bored?) with your world
You've got to look around
You got to be yourself
Do you know your friend?
Well I'd die for him
Know that I'll come back
And live again
But the promise is all you need
And you've got the promise
I don't need to discuss my life
We're talking about it now
I know that you'll hear me
You didn't bring me all this way for nothing
I know that you're here
And we're both together
What more could you want?
You'd be surprised at how simple your intake can be
You got to clean out the house
Take out all the things you don't want
You know you need to go beyond everything
And not be barred (bored?) with your world
You thought you had energy before
You won't know where you are
walking between the sky and sky where plants and animals
retreat for the heat,
i'm still torn between the city lights and the countries silence,
all i want is to rot with you in my very own funeral home.
no matter where i go the trees around my head block out the sun.
sometimes i get the greatest feeling inside of me.
it's already begun inside these lungs,
this sort of thing is never fun alone.
the cramps feel like an incurable disease.
counting the pulse, at least now i'm trying.
losing touch, losing touch of it all.
i can feel it coming on, no you couldn't be more wrong.
the doctor said he could turn what's sad into numb,
it's too late, fuck it, it's already begun.
i'm breaking into pieces picking through my thoughts.