Where to go when found indecent
Searching for aperitifs
To wash that taste of the last house
at the end of the bleakest street.
When ever apparition that you find
Just reminds you of someone you lost
Or left behind from collage houses
to Nights you derailed yourself
As you now stretch parchment back over leaf.
And the last omnibus home is now a
Long Walk to a museum peice of
And the wisdom you had was extracted
Now And equals a four minute waltz
as you now punch holes In belts
and try not to buckle raising your game
As you stand back and watch those
Strangers burn television dreams.
prompting sighs that stretch from the sixties
As pens are passed amongst Electric Armchair
electorate the opinion polls
optimise that they can still read.