Wednesday, 24 June 2009

The brimstone ballet

Every morning, before my tea, I shed a few tears
daybreak: cold and bright as the bathroom light
staring into the sink, searching in vain for lost years
daybreak: blinding harsh coldness pours from the sky
The window view confirms I'll have to face these fears
a desolate london street, --- ----- ---- --- ------
shower burns, razor cuts, must. Think. Clear.

Step into the outside, turn up young, let him play
the world is grainy, falling lines seeing all in cctv
If there were six-guns at my waist I could face the day
Leave the country, wont escape your thoughts
Got to step up son, wakings the first test of many
While the ones I love, get hurt and go astray
I bob and weave the pedestrians coming my way
I tap my feet, nod my head, to the brimstone ballet.