If there were excuses they ran dry as the Salmon run ended
With a child viewing the trail of destruction that lead
From reading and disguising Saffron’s palms
The averted fortune of burnt out American construction
rebrandeding currency as autos the corpses
Made of foreign bodies life and love
signs made Ontowards crosses
the heart to bridges and guides of islands
The ceasefires and desiste
And so what if exposure is northern
Slang for blood and amber grist desires
Free flowing in the parade
Of floats lost in television meaning
Those numbers of comodities
And commentary for a saintly show
With a name we utter in rolled
toungues Sucking on whistling lollys.
