The low slung summer sun, hung asunder
under the thunder we plunder and blunder
Is it any wonder we paint with these numbers

The portrait of a scene, plastered in the retina
broken hearted because that day was terrible
The first bright day, after months of misery
every storm lost in collective recent history
Five O'clock rung violent in warehouse silence
the casual commute home seemed so timeless
Turn through Hyson Green past a Halal shop
through the lonely back roads to Radford's top
Stopped by the garages when the wind had turned
to see a classic hometown scene almost adjourned

What happened never should have happened that way
As the memories linger they feel like a tragic screenplay

Man say to man, give me everything you have
man say man, how could you possibly say that
Sky say to clouds, let the sun shiver
crook say to poet, I need your **** liver

Poet say to God, lord when will I be free?
god say to poet, please stop bothering me
Beast say to boy, I'll count to three
boy say to beast, that I'd like to see
So man pulled a knife and waved it in the air
and man looked away, in absolute despair
Knife said to man, hey poke me in there
and man penetrated man with incredible flair

Muscle say to flesh, this doesn't feel right
eyes say to brain, this is a terrible sight
Knife say to body, do you feel that huh?
nervous system shocked replied, nu-uh
Skin say to vessels, you need to stop bleeding
Vessels say to brain I think we need healing
Brain say to body, we're going down heavy
Death say to life, we've broken that levee
Man said to knife, you've had enough fun
knife said to man, we've only just begun

I looked away petrified and pulling at my head
for when I looked back at the scene,
it was me lying dead.