Sat under the bridge
She watched the river
All reeds and ***** water
Nostalgically thinking
Of childhood dreams
And lessons the world had taught her
Chewing on a sandwich
From inside a packet
The freedom was running strong
Remembering school
And friends long gone
She burst into a song
Word for word
And line for line
It made her body sway
A song she loved
That took her back
Would get her through the day
Laying back
Eyes closed
She took a sip from a bottle
Smoking a ***
Whilst drinking beer
Her mind was in full throttle
Just one kiss
A little touch
Was all she wanted in this life
Everything was gone
Her world in ruins
Another beaten wife

Breakfast starts at 7 for the workers
All tired and weary and ready to sleep
Then onto the bus or into the car
Boarding a train to travel afar
Restless and bored souls in a heap
Those people we call the workers

Wearing overalls or ironed suits
Earning their well earned bread
Sat at a desk or digging a road
Slabbing cement or selling their load
The endless cycle they’ll do till their dead
Those people we call the workers

Joking with friends to pass the time
Anything to ease the monotonous day
Using the phone or tending to the sick
Driving around or patting a brick
Time after time and hour after hour
Longing to finish so they can play
Those people we call the workers

High up and nestling in the clouds
Is a house made just for me
And when comes the day
For me to leave this coil
I will fly upwards for a cup of tea

I will peer down eagerly from way up high
And watch the world in full stride
As the birds sing
Whilst the living play
I’ll feel warm and tingly inside

Maybe I might pay a visit occasionally
Just to say a quick hello
With a little reveal
Or tap on the door
That way I’m sure they’ll know

Their asleep, their asleep
I breath a sigh of relief
As my gentle brain unravels
And my heart begins to cheep

They snore, they snore
So content do I feel
The thoughts begin to spill out
Whilst my stamina comes to the fore

Silent breathing, silent breathing
A world of comfort floods my soul
When I look and feel all sentimental
With all the pride that I am weaving

Sweet little dreams, sweet little dreams
Share the two of them from the same pod
Tears of happiness well from my eyes
Causing my smile to burst at its seams

The age of light and of water and of night
The age of space and of electric and of flight
The age of thinking and of hearing and of sight
The age of genius

The age of simplicity and of size and of ease
The age of medicine and of cures and of disease
The age of voices and of beauty and of ******
The age of genius

The age of seeing and of equality and of ponder
The age of creativity and of new and of wonder
The age of rain and of sun and of thunder
The age of genius

The age of storms and of eruptions and of tide
The age of extinction and of death and of pride
The age of faith and of spirit and of inside
The age of genius

A drunken ramble through the wilted trees
Of dark decay and windswept pleas
Across the paths of suffocating shadow
Upon the stillness of a sleepy meadow
I slump down like a tired child
Like a clumsy elephant blessed by the wild
My heartbeat races from toe to head
As my brain dreams back to a beautiful bed
Whilst the river is running fast and unrelenting
I am like the lost soul forever lamenting
Why am I here and what do I seek
A release of guilt or a peck on the cheek
Till soon the lights of suburbia will beckon
Where the weights that tangle are sure to reckon
Alone with ones thoughts is a mental gamble
On this late night sojourn to a drunken ramble

Twisting or lying prostate