You still live in the past
Like some old crutch dragging you further to your knees
Wake Up, I know what you see
The blood soaked underwear was just life, primal
The vultures stopped circling years ago
They died as well
Just like the love, remember
New horizons, that’s what they say
Make the distance pay
Yet, here we are again
Broken people
Glue us back together
The cracks still show
I once thought, build a three storey house
Me at the top, you at the bottom, love in the middle
That way we both get a bit of something
Wouldn’t that be great
Few years from now
You walk up the stairs
Love is waiting
Wouldn’t that be great
Just don’t climb any higher
You left the past behind, remember.

The funeral was well attended
Nobody came
It was sad in a way
Clashed with the dog passing away
There was a friend with a leg
When I say a leg
I actually mean two
Though he had the flu
The Priest nearly made it
But he passed too
The butcher discussed it with the baker
In the newsagents where the notice was placed
Was it his wife who put it in
Well yes, to begin
Then a black guy called Fred
Placed another, hopefully dead
Followed by Titch
Who looked quite rich
But was really his *****
Not to detract from Simon
Frowned the butcher, calling him pieman
Though, that was simplistic
The florist  cried foul
She had the contract
But just for a while
It was left to the undertaker
Wade
Who had to subcontract
When thieves stole his *****
Joe from the pub
With the maths degree
Discussed the angles
Buried under a tree
Bernadette, at the bookmakers
Had to agree
Rushing off to mass
Father Joe listened with glee
It was a trying day in the village of Dull
The pub was in mourning
There was a definite lull
But one thing was agreed
As they slowly got ******
Rover the dog
Would surely be missed.

If you're ever on the riverside
where the sun beats your head
you would see the old man
selling hats of palm leaf
but you care not to notice him
having already smelled the sea
and too keen to cross the river
travel southward on the island
till the saline wind scalds your eyes
your skins itch to jump into the waves
yet the man with the palm leaf hats
would not cease to tell you
how burning would be the sun on the sands
and so badly you need to protect the head
by parting bucks that mean nothing to you
but a world to the mouths he feeds
and before you stamp on him a final no
she has one atop her hair
beneath which her eyes flutter like butterflies
her sun rouged cheeks untimely blush
and two born anew lovers
merrily head for the sea
having bought romance
for forty bucks.

It’s a tragedy
Both parents
Road accident
Still, life goes on
That’s the real tragedy
She left him
His first love
For a gay guy
That was a  tragedy
He still had his sense of humour though
You needed a sense of humour when a gay guy steals your woman
She wanted you back
It wasn’t working out with the gay guy
Mainly because he left you for a gay guy
Tragic
The world was his oyster
The mud suited
Camouflaged the loss
Hid the tragedy
Kept his sense of humour though
Met her years later
She remembered his sense of humour
What a tragedy
She was dying of cancer
Still, life goes on.