Die with memories, not, just dreams and regret.
Her parting words as she walked away.
She never actually said a word.
Yet her voice echoed inside his head.

Not a scream or moan
You wouldn't know she was there
as they tossed and writhed in the bed
He moaned a lot he always did seeking encouragement for his carnal bids
But she was really somewhere else and kept her noises to herself
He often asked how was it for you?
I Mark exams not whoopdie doo.
It's not that she didn't have a voice to air mid coitus like a squalking bird.
More a sense of deep control letting no one see her all.

There is a box.
It holds all the thoughts, the dreams, the pleasures our passions, loves and more.
And yet, a box closed.
For in that box are our fears, our need, our failings, loses and regrets.
I know why the box is closed.
As Pandora knew.
For if opened all are freed.
Not just what we want others to see.
So we all have a box.
We speak of its contents.
Often omitting items.
Sometines speaking of things in others boxes, wishing they were in ours.
Little boxes
Little boxes
We all have little boxes.

How do classify the human zoo? Those that ride on mowers or walk behind? Those that garden or pay others too sythe?
How would we label the cage doors? Narcissist, liar, cheat or *****?
Swindler, thief, wife beater and more?
Or would we label them like science does now with sociopath, psychopath and criminally insane all herded together till they **** again.
Where would we put the lost and forgotten? Disabled deformed and afflicted in ways you can't imagine.
We walk each day in the human Zoo, now two meters apart as we all queue. The thin the obese the tall and the sort all hunting for big roll and pasta too hoard. But while you stand just look around, for the next Jeffrey Dahmer could be two meters behind!

I walked the dog the other night as the twilight flickered and I watched the mosquitoes get ever lower in groups in acrobatics and aerobatics below the tree line like starlings swarm but not as pretty and no one likes them in country or city as they breed in pools and hunt at night and bite and infect and cause nothing but strife in their short and heady airborne life and now after admiring their ariel dance one ******* took a vampire stance and sunk it's  mouth into my cheek and left a bite thats red and angry and ******* me off because in twighlight I walked my dog.

I'm past it now
I'm over the top
Just waiting for things to start falling off
More grey than brown
More wrinkles each day
I wasn't expecting to be this way
Cholesterol high and diet low
Statins to stop you from having a stroke
I thought I'd be watching the seasons pass in the arms of a traveler who walked my path
If it's three score and ten then i'm in the last quater and it ain't golden years as the magazine's sold you
A tablet for this and another for that and one for the side effects if your still using that!
So go make mistakes
Make many
Then more
That's the advice as now I'm old

The view from down the rabbit hole
They say life is a series of moments. Some pivotal some fleeting. The fear in a childs eyes, the despair in the dying, the hope in a birth.
But those moments may happen decades apart. The irony is a single event can play them back all in parallel, simultaneously in a nano second, like a high voltage shock, triggered by anything. Something as simple as looking in a mirror or the sound of a childs cry. Thus it is little wonder sometimes people can just overload and snap. Fall into that mirror, that eternally looped moment. More disrurbing is you may be the trigger, or the stop by a simple word or action.

Two flat tyres and the batterys goosed so our google celebrity is stuck in her roost.
It's that or hike like a pack horse to Tesco.
But her Jimmy Choos wouldn't survive the hill and the neighbours would wonder who's she going to see.
For the lockdown blues have hit home and the BMW is closer to sold!
Of all the times it chose to fail, it picked when a virus had taken over the world!
But all's not lost, Madame has a plan!
For she knows of a baldy man.
Well he had hair once and shaved it off. Not his best move if we're honest.
But still he came and she hid from afar as he gave her tyres some much needed air.
It was all so quick the neighbours missed it, even the twitcher in number six.
Her tyres inflated, she's had a jump, not that kind, her battery was f#####.
So doors all locked and best foot forward, to be fair she was feeling awkward. He wasn't a knight and had no horse and his volvo looked like it had been in the wars.
She braced herself and jumped in the car and off she shot to the local shops.
A perfect end to the oddest of days with a car full of shopping and the wind in her hair.

A rare thing for me to invite them.
A guest I seldom see.
But after today I needed them and they me.
We started of quite quickly.
Then settled to a pace.
Now all that's left.
Are the remains of the day.

I closed my eyes tight to see if I could remember your face.
To try and remember a face I may never have ever seen, or am yet too see.
All I saw was millions of lights as though racing through my thoughts, traversing the universe at light speed on a journey within my consciousness.
I was once told I would meet my soul mate.
We all do.
But you may not know it's them. For your paths may cross at the wrong time or maybe in another life past, or to come.
I often pondered that.
Now as I race through the universe I find I have no soul.
Oh I have compassion and empathy and I have known love in many ways.
I feel sometimes more than I should, often, not enough.
But a soul?
No, to know you have a soul it has to be touched, or torn from you by another, or if they are indeed your soul mate shown to you.
The others are not the lights I seek, they are but the darkness collecting others very essence or to revive or feed their own.
So I close my eyes.
I hope not for the last time.
As tonight I continue my journey.
Will they join me?
Only they know.

Stay in they said just don't go out, for a killer lurks all around.

It has no hood no knife or gun, it cares not if you are all alone.

It sticks to things then sticks to you with an oily touch its entered too.

You weren't held up or abused, because your clothes flattered you.

This was different you couldn't see the abuser entered you unseen.

You simply got to close to another, the killer now made you its host.

At first the damage may not show as the killer divides inside and grows.

You may shake it off and never know, yet **** the ones you love at home.

For this killer can't do it all alone, it needs conspirators to plan it's roam.

Like a hitcher it needs a ride, but can't if you just stay inside.

No host and like a stranded soul on a desert island it will die alone.

So wash your hands, Stay at home don't be a killer on the roads.

Walk the dog on your own, and keep your kids busy at home.

Who knows you may be the one, this silent killer....makes their own.

Oh we have danced in the discotech with partners of all nations when after liberation we all danced to the songs of liberty. Under all our flags united. As time went by we stopped dancing and others came With new music and one flag. But like mods and rockers they could not dance together and fought away from the sound of the music. Now the only tunes played are national anthems as rebel rousers for dancers, who don't dance and don't know the words to the songs. Cries of patriotism yet dressed as nationalists.
Calls to arms were peace held a fragile embrace like the elderly tangoing.
Now the new dancers don't dance.  They sit on the edges of the room causing fights.
Soon the discotech will bar our entry and then when others are barred too, Groups and gangs will form and fighting begin again, like the days before the discotech.
Who will be the bouncers this time.

I never set out on any one road thinking it would be the way.
The truth is I had no idea where I was going.
Sometimes I took turns to avoid myself.
I guess we have all done that.
But as I get to the end of the road I am on, the last few months ahead for once have no direction. As though I am simply now a passenger on a driver less bus.
I know the destination. Inevitable as it seems to me now, it was never supposed to be so soon. Suddenly you look back and realise wow! Where did the time go? Now you're here alone, thoughtful.
The people you shared the journey with now on different paths or no longer travellers.
Some you asked to walk other paths, some elected too.
People are full of advice, ideas, "Do this" or "Try that" but at the end of the road I guess you hope for the best new route.
It used to be about the journey.
Now...
New horizons.

They say time heals all wounds.  But what if time itself is the illness?
Killing us from the day we are born.
Second by second.
Breath by breath.
What if?

His numbers still appear on his locker
His name on the roster
His colleagues still see his face
But all are now a memory
For you took him away

No kiss for his wife
No story for his girls
He won't be home tonight
He has left our world

Photos on the web of a family man
I can't imagine her loss
Two beautiful children
Alone and lost

He only went to work
Just being a cop
The life he loved
The life he lost

A Poem by Me  POF

I read "No photo of me, so no reply!" Like starting a fight with her opening line.
So I removed mine! I'm rebel at heart, but I do have them if you choose to enquire.
But are photos all that define us now?
I am willing to take a chance they are not.
But I do have photos and you're welcome to see, when your ready, if you're chatting to me.
But the photos are not of me holding a dog or my two daughters to bolster my cause. To show you I am a wonderful dad or that the gym is clearly my second home.
There are no photos of me a decade ago in Summer shorts that my ex chose!
If you understand what I am trying to say, it's because all profiles seem to read the same.
The five in a photo and the blond is me!
Do the other four even know they're on here?
You like to stay in and you like to go out. Do you need a photo to prove that?
You like food, and love to cook and dine out here's my dinner just look at that!
Then there's the best and one I like most
"No players please" I have had enough.
Oh ladies please!! Men are like shoes, have you ever bought the first pair you chose?
And the runner up tickles me so, own teeth and hair, and must be tall. A taller woman in heels is great. It's not my ego thats in the way.
So am I cynical or speaking the truth? Have you seen yourself in the words above?
I didn't write to offend at all, but maybe one of you gets the point.
Should men give a list of do's and don'ts?
As women do, like designing a doll.
Should we list make up and spandex as miss selling and cheat, and list only women above 5ft 3.  I hope my words made you laugh. If not cheery bye and good look on POF.

I try every day...
Putting the stars back in the sky

For so long I watched people fall into darkness.
Like the stars that shone so bright in my life.
Put out by others darkness the beauty removed, the light extinguished.
I was one of those stars, gone.
I couldn't shine as so many dark clouds hung over me.
We are all the same.
All we are is the dust from stars, nothing more... or are we.
I wallowed in darkness of depression like a weather front obscured me.
Dark clouds others left.
But sometimes I would see a star shine in the night sky I just had to wait for the clouds to clear.
I would hang onto its light like my very life depended upon it.
The wind simply blew them...away.
That was it!!
They hadn't stopped shining, nor had I.
We just couldn't be seen for all the dark clouds in life.
It was like a eureka moment.
What if each day I did one act to clear someones clouds.
Try and blow them away a little bit.
Do that and someone sees them shine.
Ask nothing in return save this..
When you can however small, blow someone elses clouds away if you can.
So I began.
Sometimes it was something big to move a cloud.
More often just something they couldn't do themselves but massive to them.
I mean we are just the stuff of stardust, just energy so why not use it?
Could it be that simple?
One cloud at a time pushing them out of the way.
Little clouds mostly and occassional big cloud and the odd storm.
But.. it worked.
Putting the stars back in the sky one deed at a time.
Here's the point.
My life is full of stars again.
People who shine because helping them clear their clouds gave me back that.
Try it
Just one little thing to remember..
If you help one star shine
you brighten your own sky..
Their clouds may be your clouds too!
You may not get it right every time.
One day at a time
One cloud at a time
But try x

One day he heard someone say he had the face only a mother could love.
Nothing ever hurt more as he was adopted.

I wish I could hang my mistakes in frames
Walk past them each day
To remind me of how not to do things again.

If we consider our life to be like a elevator starting at the ground floor. As we grow we move to differing levels. Sometimes we skip levels that we think we can do without or not need to experience. Bypass them. Often later in life we have to go back and descend to them before we can go higher. Sometimes people end up in the basement. There is a bar there and lots of bad ideas. But again you may need the visit. For some the basement is where each day the lift comes to rest. But the basement is cold after the bar closes and the other drinkers leave. If you make it out you have a choice of not pressing the down button again. The lift of life is never static. If the lift breaks down and you get trapped there isn't an emotional fireman that turns up and rescues you from the lift. You have to work out for yourself which floor you want to be on. There are signs and guides. But unless the lift breaks and someone has to repair the mechanism, you're on your own.

About three years ago I visited the Cavern pub on Matthew Street. My friend Ian Prowse runs the open Mic night. They have two rules. No cover versions and three songs maximum. I hadn't been for a while and was immediately set upon by Ian to sing a song he likes that I wrote. So when the time came. Up I got and sang. After I went to the bar, my nerves shot. I ordered a drink and a lady approached me and said how much she enjoyed it. We chatted and she asked was I there every week. I said sadly no I have other commitments. She then said she would be back next week as working in Liverpool again would I like to meet up for a drink? . I agreed to meet at 7, Matthew Street. I had just met Heidi.
The next Monday I finished work. Jumped the train to James Street and there she was. I asked had she eaten yet and she hadn't. So we went to a little Thai place on South John Street. We sat down ordered a bottle of white wine and made our selections. By the time we had finished the starters there was about 1cm of wine left in the bottle and she was very chatty and loud. Much to the delight of the couple on the table next too us who seemed to hang on her every word.
The main course came and went as did the second bottle. I still hadn't got halfway into my second glass. Now truly smashed she says "I suppose you will want a BJ after this?" The lady on the table next too us almost choked, her husband let out a laugh and I said, I know not why, "That sounds nice, but I was looking forward to the Apple pie with ice cream to be fair."
That was it for the couple next to us. His wife almost had an embolism and he laughed his head off.
Heidi got up threw her napkin on the table, downed her glass of wine in one, announced to the fellow dinners "He's not getting laid tonight" Turned, almost demolished the table leaving, and stormed out. The couple next to me now in tears, the waitress comes to the table and asks "Err is the lady coming back?" I reply No I don't think so.
She then asks would I like dessert?
Before I can say a word the chap on the table next to us says "I hope you have apple pie and Ice cream for the poor guy"
The waitress said "No" and that finished it. Three tables of people laughing relentlessly.
I sat and had melon ***** and they chatted like we had known each other for years.
What of Heidi?
She was never to be seen again.

A morning trip on the 86 off to town to do some work.
The peace all shattered from the third row back and red faces all around.
On her phone for all to hear of another journey had recently.
 The pageantry of his going down, broadcast to all going to town.
I don't know where she got on but we all know now how she got off.
I wonder if she really knows that no one wanted to know.
His skills may have been a thing of awe but on the bus love you're just a ***** !

Can you overdose on happiness and it make you feel insecure?
Can you love so much it hurts you when you think of it?
Can the touch of another make your soul tremble within?
Can the sight of them leaving **** something inside?
Are there more emotions than those we were tought.
Love joy and happiness, fear hate and remorse.
Is the pain of not knowing such  a burden as is loss?
Is there a magic formula to work it all out?
If you could edit past mistakes would it be a total rewrite?
Would you change the characters names or remove them instead?
Or would you leave things the same and learn from your mistakes?
Ask me tomorrow when the game starts again.

Some dads hide and are never there.
Others try to make it work.
Some are blocked and lied about.
Others never gave a ****.
Some are just an ATM to pay without a thankful word.
For some that all becomes to much and then they shed this mortal coil.

I seldom comment when asked of love and what it means to one or another and how perceptions change. Yet, I find myself after the events of the day, and the savage treatment of another to put my thoughts forward.
  Do people change and we or they don't exist or do we discover things that change us. We have an amazing image in our heads of what we want in a partner. Now that may sound shallow but we do. The older we get the more the image changes. Red flags cause that to change on certain behaviours, lies, traits. It is our self defence mechanisms. So inevitably the less we will compromise. Why? Because we changed too. How we were treated changes what we will no longer accept. Our core image of that ideal person changes too. So when you do meet someone it's initally based upon looks then personality, then interactions. If you get one red flag you may compromise. But more and you look for the exit. When young love is blind. It's also deaf dumb and stupid. With age we get wisdom. Out there, there are millions of us. All trying to find something. Some a start. Some an upgrade. Some an end. But in all of that you can only be yourself or it will **** you inside.  Never live a lie to keep someone elses dream alive.
Maybe I should shut up now. Good luck x

We meet people with our emotions locked away.
Over time letting them out one by one as we let people closer. Then eventually if we feel it's right we give people the keys to our hearts.
We expect them to hold that key like a precious jewel.
Some however just add it to a key ring loaded with other keys to other things.
Forgetting until it's too late what that key was for.
The day they remember, often the lock has been changed.

A Happy fathers day to all the dads who gave their all and didn't even get a call.
To the ones that worked and paid for them even if they were never seen.
To the ones that simply faded away because of the caustic games their exes played.

It dawned on me today how half of my life had slipped away, on auto fill as the web shapes and takes, as we lose more of our self to an ever growing internet.
To the who's who of no one true, that you will never meet or kiss their cheek, or share a drink at a late night bar, but share an argument from afar...
Keyboard flares sent across the net to someone you have never met, who's hiding behind a Qwerty shield and to them that screen is very real!
Or the stars that shine so bright on the browser that's just full of *****.
When shites tupence an ounce and they're worth sweet FA..
But you had to know what they ate today.
Not worth ***** and it's valued more yet they seem like royalty to the poor
So when it dawned on me earlier today that half my life had passed away..
I held a moments silence then, for the passing off the world that's real and those around us in the flesh..
Because it isn't real it's all a place made of one's and zeros to Infinity that will outlive you and me..
So before the rest of life flies by, unplug your mind from the digital hub.
Put the tablet in the drawer and leave the phone till you make a call.
Then call someone that you miss, and tell them that you love them still.
Tell them of your thoughts today and not what you were fed by the internet...
It dawned on me today, tomorrow will soon be yesterday so make the most of the here and now, when it's gone it's not backed up on a card or drive to bring back up when you desire.
Just in memories, that's all, that's it.
Not this internet of ****.

Buds pushing up and the dew of night still hanging from them as each morning they show some more of their beauty. The grass now growing again after it's winter sleep. Mornings brighter and bird song at 4am. Wet shoes as we walk through the field as the night still clings to each blade of grass. The moss now dying on the pourous headstones and staining the rock beneath.

Warm sun and a lush canopy of every green, eyes squinting through sunrise, the smell of fresh cut lawns and the smell of barbeque coals soaked in juices drifting from the gardens nearby. Late evenings and children playing till the street lights glow. The sound of foxes barking as I try to sleep. Out gathering and walking the paths I walked.

Dried leaves crushed underfoot, announcing the change of season as the nights come sooner and the sun loses it's heat. They are the days I will remember most of our autumn. As a temporary death comes to the place of death. The umbrella of multicoloured beauty falls in the breeze and blown to dance like spirits. The last flowers dried and decaying, Rain becomes colder the foxes no longer bark.

The leaves now gone, trees naked and cold. Redundant nests tossed in the wind and decay all around above and beneath the ground. Only the sparce laurels and holly show any green. The grass covered in a thin layer of white muddied by feet passing through. Not as idyllic as a Christmas card or calender. But this is my place. Where my best friend sleeps. The daily walk with my dog. My solace. Often my only peace, my only escape. Now, I share it with you.

Reminds me of this..

Oh they have always been there.
Watching in the shadows, waiting.
Playing the long game.
At the supermarket, just out of sight in the next isle.
Two seats back on the bus, not too close.. But near enough.
Like a shadow in the shadows.
That stranger you see when you close the curtains..
Just waiting...
Till you invite them in.

There was a widow who volunteered to clean the pews and dust the knave. All the jobs done in the church for the love of God in her spare time.
In summer time she cut fresh flowers, from the garden her husband tended now departed, to brighten weddings and communion masses.
She arranged them for mass each week but no one noticed who she was, just the cleaner in the shadows, thanked each week in the vicars sermon.
She had lived in that village by the church all her life, schooled and raised and married there, it was in many ways her church, her life revolved arounds its works as nothing else was left.
Then came the day she passed away and the funeral mass came and went. At the mass were very few, just the older Parrish folk and the fifth vicar she had known who sent her to her heavenly home.
As to her home here and all her worth, she left it to her local church the church she loved as much as God himself, her church from birth to death.

Crashing on the drums of the ears with the rhythm of madness and the force of hate with the colours of night as they scream of justice with no idea of why

If you could feel the earth's heartbeat would you care more about her?
Do you not feel her breath and see the rivers of her tears?
Do you not feel her tremble when you hurt her?
Or was she always dead to you.
Did you not see how she protected you while you hurt her?
You cut her and she bleeds, yet still gives to you.
But like your real mother, mother earth is dying.
But you will not be able to mourn her death.

One day you realise you love someone. You just know. That's it, no warning sign, no guide, just BOOM! A feeling that turns your whole world inside out and upside down. Fire from your belly that won't be calmed. Like Mother Earths polarity changing ends. They become your North and South. A friend becomes a lover and in that magical moment the way you see the world has changed. Because you share their vision. Then in a flash they have the keys to your soul and can walk through its corridors as though it is their own home. Use or abuse it as a trespasser.
In that moment you have no more armour no chainmail. No mask to hide behind. They hold your secrets and all your vulnerabilities. You gave them away like candy. You place your trust in an asassin that has your very soul to nurture or destroy.
For some they will spend a lifetime there and help you grow and heal, love and laugh.
Others simply use it as a space to rent then destroy everything that you built together on leaving.
They take more than they ever gave. Trust, love, light and more.
All they leave is desolation and fear. Damage that often can't be repaired and a hopelessness that builds walls and shuts out love like it is a poison.

Why would anyone try love again?

I know you can hear me
I know
A whisper
But always there
Before every move
Every thought.
The voice of
Conscience

100 years and once more we will stand silent for the lost of the war.
Millions of lives fighting for what, they had another and more after that.
Millions spent on bullets and bombs, the rich getting richer the poor slain again.

Still men missing
Never to be
Laid to rest
On Englands fields

Dispensable disposable deplorable destroyed defunct dusted dumped ah **** it
DIVORCED!

She asked how long had he been looking for her?
He replied
"My whole life"

Cooking fat got lost again and didn't come home.
A Persian with an attitude that's worse than all I've known.
It started when SAM chased her our the door.
The ****** Arsed Monster or just Sam the dog for short.

Every minute of every day you give your life away.
Each moment spent on all those fools who waste your time and play with you.
Each step at a time one forward two back they play with you as they run past.
The clock ticks so so fast.

Off she went all dressed up to meet the guy she swiped left upon.
Five feet 10 his profile said but that's where all the lies began!
In she walked in her killer heels, eyes wide and bright to look for him.
But not a sign of him to see had he stood her up? How dare he!
Then at the bar worst for wear she saw his face and balding head.
How had he aged so much, so soon from the photos that made her swoon.
Well the truth aired and shots were fired, Napoleon's descendant had clearly lied!
The CEO of a successful business would be up at 5 for the newspaper deliveries.
His holiday home was a caravan, in the **** of Wales where no one went.
His hair had gone south long ago and his belly was chasing it now as well.
But in all of this, had she lied? Was she 48 or 55?
Had those lips been rendered too? With botox and the wrinkles smoothed.
At 48 or 55 that dress had some riples inside.
The parts Spanx can't control, where age and love handles roll.
She stayed they drank. Then drank again and laughed and talked of other things.
They danced made shapes for all to see like watching a form of epilepsy.
They left at one her shoes in hand,  holes in her tights, lipstick smeared upon his cheek and a room to find to seal the deal.
Promises made to meet again and drink and dance and meet their friends.
Next week he was sat at the very same bar, watching the door for her enterance!
She? Oh no, nowhere to be seen. Across the town at another scene. This time an accountant, chartered too!
But we all know it isn't true.
Fairytale endings nowhere to be seen. Just nights of ****** and living the dream.
All in all is this all that they want? Repeating the cycle over again.
With another fool in fancy dress?
Viewed from the bottom of an empty glass.

So like everyone I guess, looking for the binary star in our life, the one we dance across time and the universe with and go into a spectacular decay before the end of it all, rather than the supernova that looks spectacular, then explodes wreaks havoc and collapses into a Neutron star at 11pm on a Saturday after 4 drinks and leaves a signature of chaos remembered for evermore, that your friends will always bring up to remind you of that woman you met!

What you hold dear, others may have no grip on at all.

What you hold dear, to others may not even exist.

What you hold dear, may be all that someone needs to control you.

What you hold dear, is held by you alone.

But what you hold dear..
Sometimes..
You must let go.

Love is like a concept album. Some really get it.
Some liked it because it was what everyone else wanted.
Some hated it but it grew on them.
Some never understood the concept or albums.

Falling in love is a wonderful thing as your heart races and you spread your wings.
Soaring like birds higher and higher.
Till you find they are married and are a ******* liar.

Whisper she said as her lids grew heavy, as the day ended and her bed beconed.
"Don't let them know" was what she said,  in Orwellian terms still a rebel redhead!

Whisper oh whisper! So no other hears and steals you words and enslaves your dreams.
A rallying cry at 00.01 as her eylids closed and she snuggled down.

A rebel at heart and a heart all her own, memories of her when I was young. The Mary Quant of our local pub an Icon of my wasted youth.

A lifetime ago, well maybe half and then one day there she was! Sat listening to a guy on gutiar, no mistaking it was her.
At the end of the night they left together, double denim man and Suzie the stranger.
I thought that would be the last I would see of a face I had always wanted to kiss.

Now fate and fortune never steered my path until one night I was in the Cavern.
Then like a muse that teased your very soul, there she was with double denim man oh fuckity ****!

Shunted and shifted from club to club then there for a moment she was all alone.
We spoke and laughed and had both had enough and somehow her lips seemed to scream
"Kiss me now!"

Only a fool would have refused that chance so I kissed her and imagined we were 20 again.
Lips parted, not awkward,
but should I have kissed?
It was double denims woman and I had stolen a kiss!

So Whisper now as I whispered then. When I stole a kiss or was it given away.
Only you would know which, but
I wish I had kissed you again and again.

Never trust a Tory
Every one of thems a ****!
Feeding from the working classes
Like vampires at a bloodbank.

Never trust a Tory
They're all the bleeding same
Theiving from the poorest
To fund their second homes.

Never trust a Tory
They steal from everyone
Theft by tax evasion
Self assessed to earn **** all

Never tust a Tory
I dated one once you know
I was her bit of rough
To make her feel benevolent
I showered for a month