Laying in wait and
the selection now playing
is,
what was I saying before the jukebox cut in?

I believe when I see it
my hearing's off key,
show me don't tell me
or
else leave me be.

But the bandwidth is wider which
sits well with the cider and
the beat as they say carries on.

Someone puts cheese with some chives
for the ploughmen, how then
and where will I eat?
and the band carries on,
but I'm beaten.

Gone are those good times under the sheets.
I read between the give way signs and
the stop lines and the
hard times are here.

The teardrop only shines for a moment or two
then the bad times are filtered away.

The selection selected though I've not yet perfected the play,
but I know that there's always another day to
lay in wait and one more when I lay in state
and another which will have to be
another notch on my belt.