The ***** was a drunken old sot, a soak of a bloke with a cast iron throat and his purpose was plain once you saw through his pain where the shadows of yesterday lay,
two children play on the sand but the hand of the Devil or God, took them away in a surge tide that day,and
the switch on the replay is on.
Gone is the fine City Gent,where his wife went is anyone's guess, but she went in a mental asylum,suppose I would too,when the glue doesn't hold you and what life has told you is at the bottom of the sea.
He went through Heaven, bought his slices of hell at the seven/eleven until the money ran out and his heart wore away,but the replay is on,two children at play and then they are gone and the replay plays on.
In the street of a thousand desires stands a man with his dreams unfulfilled,time has willed him to stay though he'd rather just lay down and die.
He ties another one on and the replay is replayed until the replay is gone and the bottle is none the wiser.