Apr 2018
For Tracy
I wish I had the *****
To say this to your face
But I'm all over the place
Maybe someone will find my diary
Rip out the pages
And say these words to you
In a nicer accent than mine
But you'll know it’s me
That day after we left school
And I got inebriated
In that club (CIU affiliated)
You walked out, arm in arm
With Tony the ****
And all I could do
To show my hurt
Was sick down my shirt
At Jackie and Teds reception
In the Golden Lion
I saw you looking at me
With that smile
You kept for children
And catalogue men
I didn't have the *****
They still ain't dropped
After all these years baby
After all these years
But if they did I wouldn't have stopped
So hear me now baby
Through his posh inflection
The plans I had for us
You need to hear of the direction
We were headed
The dreams I dreamt for us
I mourn the time we snogged
In the alley near the allotments
Where the drudgery of life
Could not get through to us
If the moon had changed its cycle
I'd have met your ******
That bank holiday weekend
Just after the storm
I had my Uncle Bobs van
A stereo to die for,
No tax, (it was applied for)
One windscreen wiper
But three good tyres
And I knew you were an optimist
The only thing that stood
Between the Sheppey Isle
And our bliss
Was a country mile
The A13, my hesitancy
And ability to miss or miss
That caravan was ours
For three whole days
I was flush with cash
Seventy two pounds sterling
In coins
We could have been King and Queen
The boot was well stocked
With 2 bottles of Polish *****
From the **** shop
And a pocket full of 10 mil Vallies
I nicked from your Mum
At that knees-up
When your grand-dad died
I could have held your perfect hand
And crushed your tiny fingers
If you had lied
About your love for me
Which you would have only done
To save your heart from breaking
You have always been my hero
You shat on the swings
And did other things
That no-one dared
But you never
Got smaller
Unlike
Me
So when you hear his posh voice
Think of me
Think of the caravan
Think of Leysdown
Then look down at the fallen chair
Look up at my limp body
Do what I never could
And cry your ******* heart out
I wish I had the *****
To say this to your face
But I'm all over the place
Maybe someone will find my diary
Rip out the pages
And say these words to you
In a nicer accent than mine
But you'll know it’s me
That day after we left school
And I got inebriated
In that club (CIU affiliated)
You walked out, arm in arm
With Tony the ****
And all I could do
To show my hurt
Was sick down my shirt
At Jackie and Teds reception
In the Golden Lion
I saw you looking at me
With that smile
You kept for children
And catalogue men
I didn't have the *****
They still ain't dropped
After all these years baby
After all these years
But if they did I wouldn't have stopped
So hear me now baby
Through his posh inflection
The plans I had for us
You need to hear of the direction
We were headed
The dreams I dreamt for us
I mourn the time we snogged
In the alley near the allotments
Where the drudgery of life
Could not get through to us
If the moon had changed its cycle
I'd have met your ******
That bank holiday weekend
Just after the storm
I had my Uncle Bobs van
A stereo to die for,
No tax, (it was applied for)
One windscreen wiper
But three good tyres
And I knew you were an optimist
The only thing that stood
Between the Sheppey Isle
And our bliss
Was a country mile
The A13, my hesitancy
And ability to miss or miss
That caravan was ours
For three whole days
I was flush with cash
Seventy two pounds sterling
In coins
We could have been King and Queen
The boot was well stocked
With 2 bottles of Polish *****
From the **** shop
And a pocket full of 10 mil Vallies
I nicked from your Mum
At that knees-up
When your grand-dad died
I could have held your perfect hand
And crushed your tiny fingers
If you had lied
About your love for me
Which you would have only done
To save your heart from breaking
You have always been my hero
You shat on the swings
And did other things
That no-one dared
But you never
Got smaller
Unlike
Me
So when you hear his posh voice
Think of me
Think of the caravan
Think of Leysdown
Then look down at the fallen chair
Look up at my limp body
Do what I never could
And cry your ******* heart out
