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Desmond Lane Jan 2014
Broken features washed in silver
All the streets are shining.
Vapour trails exposed to sunlight
Fading like a promise.
Time moves like a hungry panther.
Viscose slow and silent.
Roaring faintly in the distance
Calling me to silence.
Eyes still burn so clear and distant.
Nothing else remembered.
Sound and senses don’t respond.
Memories no condolence.
Time moves like a fading flicker
Just the turning of a film
Does my weakness make me angry?
I can’t quite remember.
Desmond Lane Jan 2014
And memories of melodies
And Saturday and lies
And motion and immobile
And sand and sea and sky
And friction burns on finger-tips
And any kind of drug
And mercenary changes
And take it with a shrug.
And mornings from the night before
And washing out the stains
And all this joy and comedy
And causing so much pain
And decadence
And cheap pretence
And lie awake all night
And turning round to see you’ve gone
And giving up my sight
And all my lover’s finery her perfume
And her kiss, her love
And her rejection
And all the things I miss
And all my lovers finery her perfume
And her kiss, her love
And her rejection
And all the things
Desmond Lane Jan 2014
On a Hundred Towns
We spoke of love and we spoke of blood, for all the good it did.
‘til somebody else pressed a hand on me, and I was taken, I was scared to death.
They always said you looked good in black, but I was never certain.
Oh we walked through the streets when the snow was as thick as love,
Yes we walked in the road where the snow was as thick as blood.
And I can remember a figure in silhouette as I planned for the future.
I can remember a queen in her prime  - or a princess in mourning.
Can you feel can you feel,
can you
Can you feel what I’m thinking?
Can you tell, can you tell,
Can you
Can you tell what I’m feeling?
Can you hear can you hear
Can you
Can you hear what I’m listening to?
Do you know, do you know
Do you
Do you know what I think of you?
Oh I bet you do.
We could be the chosen ones , we could be a midnight sun
A falling of Angels.
Like stars on an autumn night – we’d shine so bright.
We could be the moon that rose so huge – even though the rain came down.
On a Hundred towns

— The End —