BEATS OF LOVE
123. In a Heap by Me
The rhythms of the night before were with me on the floor,
How could they possibly know the greatness of the new Two Lone Swordsmen LP?
I asked myself in absolute, emotive wonder.
While they decided that the shallow, glass-eyed edge of life is best,
They chose the drizzle over this sudden thunder.
Drizzle that characterised my old man's days on earth
Sure, he'd seen the Stones at Belle Vue, but that was nothing new
I never thought Mick and Keith would outlive him or Lord Sabre
or never thought I'd be voting for this tepid form of Labour
A vote cast purely to spite my old man, still.
I asked myself in absolute, emotive wonder.
While they decided that the shallow, glass-eyed edge of life is best,
They chose the drizzle over this sudden thunder.
Drizzle that characterised my old man's days on earth
Sure, he'd seen the Stones at Belle Vue, but that was nothing new
I never thought Mick and Keith would outlive him or Lord Sabre
or never thought I'd be voting for this tepid form of Labour
A vote cast purely to spite my old man, still.
His upper body hides behind a wide-open Daily Express,
As I watch his flapping, slippered feet untangling the mess
That life became inside a paper so incredibly lame.
"He’s in a heap," they whispered. And they were dead right.
As I watch his flapping, slippered feet untangling the mess
That life became inside a paper so incredibly lame.
"He’s in a heap," they whispered. And they were dead right.
No comments:
Post a Comment