It’s been a while,
I barely remembered your name.
But how could I forget
The curves of your face

We shot for the stars
And then aimed for mars
But ended up
In two for twelve bars.

Press replay on my broken heart
the starting blocks were just a false start
And even if I lose my throne
I’ll still have the memories we own.

Regardless, there’s always
Something on the radio
That makes me think of you
and diverges the sadness in me

And I don’t care if this moment is our last.
For if it is
Everything I’ll ever do will be past.
I won’t be there for the last laugh

Press replay on my broken heart.
Wind back the tape but don’t you warp my record
leave me melting, frightened in the winter heat.

Self focus and hibernate to chase the dream away
"Such narcissistic cynicism laid to rest on a TV dinner tray"
Alright, smart ****.
Your entire personality is a farce.

They hate the now. But hate the past even more!
Stick it to the man! But they’ll still clean his floor
I miss the crowd
I miss the bliss
I never thought it would come to this

When you're lonely
You feel only
Lonely thoughts.
You don't wanna be stuck indoors disassociating,
I need a boring colleague.
But I've tried worrying before.
More thoughts -
I know you think I'm offshore,
A matador for you and me
Don't like your score?
Offshore offshore

Life never seems quite so bad when I’m holding your hand.
Only major chords ring from the strings that hold my heart
with a melody somewhere along the lines of I hope we’re never apart,
a carefully constructed piece of coming of age bildungsroman art.

Before you I was perfectly content with being a one man band.
You threw me into a new key and helped me find a comfort within myself -
a sort of lovers arrogance, because I found the perfect girl and nobody else comes close.
I don’t need drugs because every moment with you is already ecstasy.
An hour with you is a minute without,
and when we’re together the world runs in double speed yet I’m unaware of it being there.
Because you are my world and there’s nothing I’d change
Just the love of my life and maybe one day I’ll be lucky enough to call you my wife.

In your darkest days you’ll remember my name.
When your brain is clogged with the wind and rain.
To those December summer nights where our love will reach new heights,
I’ll always be there.
No judgment, I don’t care.
I don’t care because I do, I only care because I care for you.
When the world turns against you and there’s nowhere left to run.
You’ll always have somewhere to hide, because you’ve found the one.
And when you’re on the podium waving pandemonium
I’ll be there saying I told you so.
No matter what the world can throw.
You and me, will never be alone.

Bob Dylan’s hats mean more to me than a requited lust for fame.
On our screens over the summer months,
with it’s logo slapped obnoxiously onto the water cooler -
covering more pressing concerns.
As people rant and rave, the so called stars of the show are prominent for a matter of days.
In their fifteen minutes of fame they become better recognised than a man called Dave.
Some are hated for things they have said or done.
trending on twitter and being memed from day one.
But as the winter solace rolls into place
Everyone forgets the familiar face
that pranced and clapped on morning TV
What was his name again who was he?
What once was a Dave is more like a Huxley or Mort.
He was far too easy to replace, when fame hit abort.

I’m starting to think she may have died
gone up to blue tick heaven after being verified
Caught up in a mockery of an internet led democracy
World wide fame to blame for the tragedy
Her Tightened grip on reality was merely a saga of concise works of fiction.


She tried to Reach out for profanity and found a hundred degrees reality.
Well It all means nothing to nobody now
Here comes latest trend you’d be mad not to bow.

Been inactive for days lost track of the newest craze
Whilst her exploits were insightful
They ultimately led to her downfall
Spin the wheel line up to play the game
Because nobody remembers your name
Only your handle.

I’m starting to think maybe she lost her mind
all of the tape unravelled when she tried to hit rewind.
There was no filter there when she opened the window to look outside
without the second source she was unable to decide
she went offline to go backpacking in the sky I wonder why?
It all seems so alternate
With her curtains drawn at the break of dawn it seems so analogue.
She had a shockproof phone case but I can’t say the same for her mind

Gary met Sally for some backseat bingo
because she’s the lucky one that razzed his berry.
The word from the bird is that she’s past her prime
The sort of girl whose personality is cheap chocolate and wine.

He greeted her with gimme some skin
She thought it was too formal of a way to begin.
Because sally still lives in the past
Sharing chain posts on facebook
To keep her from things in the dark
Sally’s a bit backwards but she’s well meaning at heart.

You’ve got to make it to this party it’s gonna be a gas
Sally said she’ll think about it, but really she just wanted to pass.
She’s got ice cream in the freezer and an appointment with the mad hatter
(with a special appearance from his twirling tip).

Gary looked rather gloomy, realising she looked quite different from her profile.
That, and he thought the way she chewed was vile.
Nevertheless he thought he’d place his bet on a submarine race.
He reckoned for the price of lunch and a bit of sweet talk, he’d be left with a smile on his face.

Sally was blind to Gary’s plan
She was off in training as a space cadet
Thinking this date was quickly becoming an experience she’d forget
But back on earth things started to pick up
Unlike Sally’s self esteem, which was left in a rut.

And to this day Gary and Sally are married, with a kid, a cat and a shared checking account.

Young Robert clambered from his bed,
This bonny boy, the town smack head.
He drew the curtains, struggling to find his wits,
The death of his brother had made him turn to this, in bits.
Dressed in clothes not changed for a week,
He slowly wandered down the street
Looking for things to rob, dear and cheap.
As he pondered the Edinburgh crowd,
He began to think all were sheep
Stuck in societies pleasures, but little did they know
of the everlasting euphoria that comes with narcota
In the godforsaken rain, wind or snow.
And young Robert, or Bobby to his mates
Was nothing but doomed, funded by the state.