— Yeah, so it’s musicless songs. Inaudible like. Ye read them.
— You mean a poem?
— No, we’re selling these. Poems are crap anyway. Wait’ll ye hear.
— Mate, you’re daft. Help me with this stall, bai. Wordless poems it is.

————————-90———————91———————–

You know I’m glad of this cloudy grey day
The slick pitch and lime wastes dead things away
The filth-ridden fowl, their barbed wire wings
I’m glad to see an end to these things

I’m writing these songs for you and for me
That we may come to know the true price of being free
It’d kill me in an instant to do wrong by these words
You’ve to count them as precious, for I have lived hard

And I know the cost of a good bag of grain
It’ll weigh in good measure with the stretch of your pain
There’s an old boy who stands a long day in the yards
Fulfilling the truth of his own just rewards

They promised us here to rehabilitate
But no pen-wielding teacher can wash men of their hate
And I’ve met with those who’ve fallen foul of the sword
I lend them my ear to wash up their raw words

So make your suggestions as something that shines
If for reformation your true heart does pine
Empty the houses of peasants and lice
Meet with sore eyes your brothers in vice

I’ve to keep writing for my road is long
Come the due time I will tell you the song
Don’t waste your blessings on tourists like me
Instead think of those who will never be free

———–74—————————75———————–

You know that if I get to sketching
A pale blue figure will emerge
Your visions never were fool proof
In fact she played you like a fool

And I’m not saying you deserved it
Your whiskey comes a hundred proof
Go on out fishing close to midnight
While this oil lamp slowly burns

Yes we can take this thing in turns
And pray to God that he will spare us
There’s no telling how the die will fall
She makes my coffee in the morning

It’s no ordinary way of living
Your woman wants you safe at home
Get on that cocaine boy keep rolling
Buy yourself a brand new Ford

Overseas the war is raging
You can’t cope with clear regret
Fill your cup with open promise
Hand me down my walking cane

You’ve got a shed out the back and that says it all
A burlap sack and a carpet stall
They pulled the curtains on your show
Sling your hook on down the coast

There’s many ways to say these things
All the joy that this life brings
You may lace those boots pal
Can’t stop that hometown burning

Gather all your private things
They seen it in a teacup
We’ve been doing it here many years
Won’t you stay with me tonight?

—————————————————————————————————-

And so you let him do
The things he comes to do to you
You let him linger on
He’s already gone

Blanche your face and blacken up your eyes
The dress you wear is darker than the night
Glamour forces out a fresh ideal
Buckle yourself in, it’s the turning of the wheel

So he comes to do
The things you let him do to you
He’ll come by tonight
I never told you so

You were a schoolgirl once upon a time
Now you’ve grown up wasted, he says that’s just fine
Take a look beneath the kitchen floor
Pins that send you reeling, he’ll be back for more

You have yet to consider the implications
Sharing your disease, tell me what became
Of your faith
Baybuh?

Pucker up now though you’re aging grey
What’s a girl to do, it’s another wasted day
Take the time to read your script with care
You know dreams of beauty, and just the thing to wear

Do the things you want
Nobody is judging you
They just see the sides
That won’t show by your light

——————————————————————————————————————–

— mate

— matter with ye wee mucker

— these aren’t sellin’

—I know. Let’s go home.