There are some moments
that can stand the test of time
There are some days when
I wished the clock wouldn't chime
Moments like this can fall
into the empty hourglass
labelled just a a waste of time
The man in the repair shop
who has more faces than the townhall clock
pulling fast ones till it is time to drop
Putting in batteries with a grin
saying he has fixed the watch
with all the skill acquired over many years
replacing a battery is as cheap as chips
then his bill has you reduced to tears.
Moments, endless moments captured on film
replaying your youth gets the old brain moving
capturing time in a lens then freezing the frame
moments like this are worth every penny.

They were sipping lemonade
through a striped straw
A woman with a huge smile
was buffing the polished floor
There were a couple of guys
as we walked through yesterday
they noticed me in an instant
as I looked at their display.
They asked me if I was alright
They were extremely kind
They were also very polite
knowledgeable and refind.
The arcade was busy
together with the excitement it brings
I glanced at those men
and I noticed they had wings
They were angels
send by God for sure
They were helping those suffering
and  those that were poor.
They were definitely angels
angels that touched my soul.

Leaves that part company with bark fall
sweeping in a hypnotic motion to the ground
Magpies crazy as a box of green frogs call
their machine gun call barks a familiar sound
The rain drenches leaves that fell
falling to the ground not as a sprinkle
but falling like a burst open well
like tears from the eyes that twinkle.
Falling and falling, down they shoot
each and every atom that is designed to fall
from the leaf, to bark, to twig to root
as if nothing but falling matters at all.

Like the snow that falls gently silently
without warning it drifts.
Clouds like the snow waft here and there
drifting where no man could go.
waves as white as pure driven snow
crash to the shore, effortlessly, without care
breaking waves rushing madly not gently
not silently, not drifting but relentless
The sand sifts through the sieve of time
its hands pushing glass through moments
seconds mashing it to a find dust called sand
then it drifts, as time wanted it to, drifts.

There is this untidy robin called Bert
who would sit all day in the dirt
although his cute red band
did look grand
when he put his waistcoat over his shirt.

There once was a crow called Joe
Who always went with the flow
He was absolutely carefree
just perched in his tree
just taking life nice and slow.

Looking through the images in your mind
The colours fade from great to grey
Is it that you are trying to find
a better start to the day?
It is beyond a dream, it is a pain
a pain that will never go away
Look back, examine those images again
and you will find that they start from grey
the colours will explode into view
the black as the ace of spades stays
leaving such a vibrant hue
which will paint over the dismal days.
It is beyond one's imagination
It is somewhere in-between
Beyond one's expectation
it has gone past a dream.

Deal or No Deal A tribute to Florence Bentley
Deal or No Deal her favourite host would say
Noel Edmonds to her just a mere youngster
Fun and the thrill of it all is what she liked
A gift he had any many more amongst her.

In her youth she looked like a film star
Stunningly beautiful like Marilyn Monroe
Laughter was important to her
Met with a smile and a “mind how you go”

She would giggle and had a twinkle in her eye
That twinkle staying to the bitter end
Our mum has lost a supportive sister
And a lifelong best friend.

Now that we are met with sorrow in our hearts
But then she would not want that – not our flo
So with a brave smile on all of our faces
We say farewell aunty flo and mind how you go.

House for sale or rent
the worm wanted the sale
he followed the footpath
along the silvery trail.
The directions he found well
there was a notice hung by a nail
he put on his spectacles and read
"available" do not fail.
He searched for more words
he had no idea what this meant
The snail shuddered under his breath
the worm sniffed the scent
This property belongs to a snail
he slithered away in disgust
he sulked as far as his worm hole
and settled amongst the dust.
Cant blame me for trying he thought
just wanted to upgrade
he cried cruel tears all night
and decided to keep the hole he'd made.

We count the hours that steadily pass
To say we have time on our hands
Observe the trickling hourglass
Seconds replace falling sands

Sand slides ad progressively rolls,
Rolling away, hours pouring
Time for sleep when the bed calls
Time skips without our knowing.

Time speeds up during the day
No time to meet with demands
Need more time I heard you say
I need more time on my hands.

The banks are beginning to crumble
sand dribbles through thick roots
tiny fish hiding amongst the growth
and yellow flashes on the new shoots
The bull rushes stand guard
tall, ***** like soldiers in a row
the Ash and the Elm sway in the wind
sheltering the bluebells that grow
Eels slither like ribbons in the wind
The otter decides to take a morning dip
There's an old apple tree somewhere
Fallen apples decay and leave many a pip
to sink slowly and root in the unlikely place
the sun beats down from an azure sky
the fisherman unstable against the bank
his stool wobbling as he eats his pork pie
The fish munch away at his bait
the line pulls tight and he reels the line
the fish unaware of his fate
the bull rushes salute and call time.

Pick up the pieces and carry on.
Deep breath usually clears the air
Keep calm and just carry on
Your pieces will certainly repair.

Conversation, that is all I wanted
A little time set aside to talk
Time, that is all I needed
Just extra moments to have a walk

So with this in my mind
and thoughts took their toll
I decided this is the time
that a ventured upon a short stroll

What did I find but chaos all around
Things were set to being weird
I noticed that all conversation had gone
and love from this earth had disappeared.

In some areas hatred was being broadcast
No thought for feelings deep within
Where has the love gone? Why has it gone?
all I could hear was a dismal din.

Moans, groans, fear, bloodshed, hurt
This just on a morning's stroll
An Angel needs to come to earth
and spread more love, that's her goal.

Nothing is so frustrating as a route
The Sat Nav playing it magic flute
Mile after mile
After a long a long while
The machine is mysteriously on mute!

Nothing is so frustrating as a route
The Sat Nav playing it magic flute
Mile after mile
After a long a long while
The machine is mysteriously on mute!

Days come and they go
The sands in the hourglass forever fall
Little things pass and stand the time
Some things in life do not matter at all.
But when it comes to life, the loss of it
well that is a different kettle of fish
and it hurts when their lives didn't stand a chance
we can all forever dream and expect a different wish
These lives were children, little children
with all the innocence of the young
They should be growing and doing what we can
Now a different sort of hymn from the  book is sung.
How can this be, why should this be,  why?
Why choose the innocent in life we just do not know
now each day sorrow and sadness passes us by.
Perhaps a thought should enter their heads
when the evil is about to strike question why
maybe these three little letters can dig home deep
maybe if they did,  people would not have to die.
Let there be no more hurt, let there be no more tears
No more.  Ask yourself why. There can be a change in ways
And we can learn to smile,  we can think about hope and peace
maybe time will pass through our tears and bring better days.

She just stood there hair in curlers
wired up to the mains
"What time do you call this?"
"My watch stopped" he claims.

Any excuse you are very late
He had no idea what she meant
He was wondering if this could wait
He was shaking and his key was bent.

"I expect I had a little drink!", came his reply
and waited to accept his fate.
She seemed to be smiling and he wondered why
she looked at her calender and especially the date.

"It is my birthday, I waited and waited for you
I just wanted to see you for goodness sake"
I waited and waited and didnt know what to do
I got angry, and in my madness ate all of my cake.

"Oh" he said.
He called time.

A few black holes and plenty of stars
No smog, no wars and definitely no cars
No speed cameras, no road signs
No road works to contend with, no lines
No road rage, no right of way
a distinct difference from light of day.
Whether in your rocket or buggy for one
space is just empty from when time began.
Microwaves screaming "melt me"
no hidden monsters in a fake tree.
They are out there waiting for you
just ask the Cling Ons, Dr Spock or Dr Who.

Light blue or indeed pink
will you require something to drink
with a slice of lemon or a straw?
That is the question.
Light blue or pink
Unable to think?
Requesting to draw.
That is the question
is it a boy or a little girl
What a shame
Who is to blame?
Pink or blue
that is my question to you.

This little man
Will do all he can
To eat all his beans
And avoid his greens.
For him it is considered beneath
To keep clean his teeth.
There is little hope
Of owning a bar of soap.
To let an evening pass
He would roll in wet grass.
Then to get himself in gear
Knock back four pints of beer.
He has been told “elf”
Take a look at yourself
You have got yourself to blame
You have brought much shame.
You must go through a door
And find it in yourself to explore.
So it was that he became irritable
With the thought of eating a vegetable
He knew he was quite snappy
But what would make him happy?
Slow breathing in and out
Just made him want to shout
Who would want to embrace?
His ugly little face?
So he had a choice
Led by a comforting voice
Choose which door
He needs to explore.
Go through the door of red
Where one stayed in bed and just ate bread
Or the door painted green
He would get himself clean
Or go through the door marked blue
Find out what he is addicted to.
That thought was just plain crazy
He knew he was lazy.
He was the little man with a very short shelf
Plonked on a label branded a very lazy elf.

If you believe in fairy tales and magic
If you believe in wishes then join this queue
For tonight is the night out of many when
Your dreams might possibly come true.

Look into the midnight sky full of stars
It is as if the whole sky has silver freckles
Sparkly moons and planets and beams
Pearly things and saltwater speckles.

Hold your breath for a second then close the eyes
For magic is about to happen there’s no dispute.
For stars will whizz across the sky a light show
And dreams will start to come true as they shoot.

Kicking the dust off my shoes
As I strolled towards my front door
Less for me to do I thought
As I had already cleaned my floor.
The front door needed painting
I had some spare paint in the shed
Nobody would miss my house
If I did the door in a nice bright red.
And the windows need replacing
The frames look shabby and worn
The paint on them seems to be peeling
They were on the house before I was born.
And while I am at it I’ll replace the mat
It has certainly seen much better days.
All these jobs don’t come for free you know
But keeping on top definitely pays.
The letterbox keeps sticking too, I’ll see to that
The postman will be pleased with me
After all these jobs today I will be fast asleep
Oh I seem to have mislaid my key!

Kicking the dust off my shoes
As I strolled towards my front door
Less for me to do I thought
As I had already cleaned my floor.
The front door needed painting
I had some spare paint in the shed
Nobody would miss my house
If I did the door in a nice bright red.
And the windows need replacing
The frames look shabby and worn
The paint on them seems to be peeling
They were on the house before I was born.
And while I am at it I’ll replace the mat
It has certainly seen much better days.
All these jobs don’t come for free you know
But keeping on top definitely pays.
The letterbox keeps sticking too, I’ll see to that
The postman will be pleased with me
After all these jobs today I will be fast asleep
Oh I seem to have mislaid my key!

And The Moor Was White
A sea of snow sliding
Moving like a river
Drifting, I saw it drifting
if on skates, gliding
And the moor was white.

Twinkling, it shone
The snow glistened
I stopped, took off my hat
And I listened,
And the moor was quiet.

There were tracks
Footprints from a bird
I admired its path it took
I put back on my hat and heard
The moor seemed to whisper to me.

The wind brushed my face
And persuaded me to stroll
And there on its side
Was a new born foal.

It was alert, looking for shelter
Cold, hungry and in desperate need.
The moor was a lonely place
I gave it all I had so it could feed.
And the moor fell silent.

I made my way through the woods
Out of the drifting snow
The foal followed me to a path
And I showed him the way to go.
Back to the moor twinkling and white.

They say things
and they wonder why we laugh
Because we have to giggle
just now and then.
See the funny side
and there is one.
Just open up your chuckle muscles
to the world
let rip, let the tears of laughter flow
Just let go.
Loosen up
let go of worries
they will come back
but in a better light
just laugh like you have never laughed before
smile the biggest grin on earth
show those sparkly white teeth
go on have a good giggle.
It will be infectious.
Smile and the whole world smiles with you.
Try it. Do it now.  See it works. Im smiling.
Now im giggling.  Now I am howling with laughter.
Are you?

I feel rosy
I am pink
With a splash of blue
My eyes are rhubarb
Dotted with iris
My dreams have been bottled
to be released on the moon
Shot through with lilac
With purple hue
My streams lay cold
brazen and brown
The love has grown old
worn down.
Moons have passed and gone by
and the tears I shed for you
are bone dry.

Which way?
I have no idea.
Where are the options?
There are none.
Well I will carry on.
No good moaning
nothing left for groaning
Just turn left
it is the nearest to the heart.
What are the options?
They have gone.
Carry on.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

The stream was transparent
like a sky without a cloud
Reflections were apparent
as fresh as a field just ploughed.
The water trickled, it just fell
as if nothing mattered at all
sweeping across where otters dwell
up to the crashing waters in the fall.
It was delightful, refreshing to hear
crystal clear waters along the verge
creeping gingerly to the weir
where fish peep then submerge.
Bullrushes like brooms stand guard
like soldiers in a regimented row
each having such a high regard
where each plant should grow.
Trees shade the dappled splashes
of the odd little leak
up to where the foamy spray crashes
along the stone lined creek.
Kingfishers, as blue as the sea
cradle their catch for grim death
snuggling up in their nests in the tree
living the moment to catch their breath.
The call of the blackbird with a golden beak
singing for its star in the show
oh if only this gorgeous bird could speak
it would tell you things you know.

It is a sad situation, nobody could deny
could it be the hand painted tear
designed with one reason only - to terrify
to lay tracks, to spread a fear.

A clown is supposed to be funny - his profile
Bright, over-sized clothes to complete the plan
do not be fooled by the hand painted smile
portraying he is not that type of funny man.

Years ago it was a different story in the *** of white
you automatically smiled at his expression
held to the moment by the false floodlight
leading him down the path to depression.

His world, this craziness, leaves him alone
His false tears, his smile turning upside down
The expression now has turned to stone
and he lives in his own little ghost town.

This was not supposed to happen this quick
his life is taking on a tricky path ahead
Gone are the days of the laughter from slap-stick
leaving now misery from the big boots, bad tread.

He is growing old, failing to make an impression
he has ran out of smiles, empty of his own fuel
running out of money after each session
leaving him with debts and ridicule.

He does his best, seeking new times, new hope
but it is like everything else,the sign of the times
in a nut shell he can just about cope
the more you scream with laughter, the harder he climbs.