White linen sheets
Like newly fallen snow
Softly with the pillows now
Hospital corners at the toes

There's a special kinda hell
That's being built for you
Every brick
It is built on sick
And suckerd into bile
I can't pull you out
You're holding on with a smile
The grim puddle swallows us all
A churning yet gentle draw
I've tasted so much yellow foam
Snotted, slobbered, begged & moaned.
But nothing more now sits within
Only a boaking rancid thing
You sit in the front room and we grin
The kettles on the Turnocks are in
But the offering is oversweet
It tastes like nausea
And smells like feet
A candy-covered slimy gack
If I swallow another drop
I won't get back

Manipulation is a maggot
That will rot through your soul
Leaving your morality
Full of tiny holes

I saw the green army
Streaming down from the stadium
They were beautiful
moving almost for a moment together
Marching in union
Under cheap green polyester shirts
They have a buzz about them
We all looked at it from the bus
We could feel the swell of it
Enticing and excited
They have been chanting together
Winning and losing
Feeling each other's joy and pain
The bus pulls off into the traffic flow
As the procession whips out of sight

Is it a ***** pidgeon?
Or an angelic dove?
As the old man bears down on the white sharp glare in the sun
Indifferent is he
And in the same way so is she
A male is twirling nearby
She ignores him as she weaves through
Ignorant to all but the trajectory of the million pedestrian feet
Eyes fixated on a Barnecutt pasty crumb
The little pink feet give chase
She gobbles down the golden crumbs
And roves on out of my view in the golden sun

I'm hoping for Daisy May
Where tide cuts the path away
She sits, right now
Baking in the mud
The tide falling as I type
I seen the lazy sailors
Chilling on greening tenderboat
A diffrent kind of river gypsy
On a diffrent life afloat
Im seeing her Monday 5th
At the time of 11.30 O clock
Her name means renewal
a freshness is brought to mind
(Said the bot)
Or a milk cow chewing the cud
(Replied my brain box)
A rough diamond kinda find
I'll not barter on her price
These mooring man's shoes are dead
150 squid a year for heaven
"Nothing so much fun you know?
As messing around on boats!"
I'm hoping for Daisy May
I'd like to buy that boat

I hear them before I see them
And each year I stop all activity
To turn and watch
They give me the V
For Victory
Honking away the winter grip
Thawing back his fingers
Until old Jack slips
Soon there will be warmth
The smell of suncream
Just mown lawns and barbecues
The last bud will then have to bust
Then their deeds will be done
They will take off in song
A babble on the breeze heading south
And I will eagerly listen for them
In the forever of next years frost