Old trains

I way preferred the old trains
Where you could open the doors whenever
Watch em swing bang pulling into Victoria.
Fuck in the toilets
Stick ya head out the window
Through the bars
Into the path of oncoming trains
The only way to stay awake
Drunk coming home.
Nose so close to that thundering blur
Knowing what if someone like me just opened the door.
Sit in the guards compartment
Peace from the pencil necks.
Sipping my Stella
Fresh from the smokey buffet car of the London to Brighton.
The old first class
That I would pull apart.
Bulbs out the window.
Just for a laugh
How long ago
Late 80’s I guess
I dunno.
I way preferred the old trains.

It has begun

Today
I woke up to a “what the fuck??”
Not that time already
The dark room
Wife slumbering sound beside
The longing to remain in the nest.
But it was blue skies last week?
It has begun
The dark days
That unnatural time that us zombies have to begin.
And to say goodbye to such a magnificent summer only makes this Sudden change to autumn even more horrifying.
Goodbye beautiful summer
We expected nothing
And you gave us everything.
Day after day after day after glorious day
And to think we even started to take you for granted.
Goodbye darling summer.
Thank you for making our cities and countryside just beautiful.

True story. I wanna turn this into a country number.

They left me in charge of the rabbit
When they went on holiday
The fucker kept escaping
To my dismay.
I named the bastard Houdini
Son of a bitch
They left me in charge of the rabbit
The foxes had it.

I battened down the hatches
And secured his cage
But still found white fur on the lawn
When I went back next day.
So i spun tall tales of escapades
But my story wouldn’t swim
They left me in charge of Houdini
And the had foxes had him.

Crack house

Funny that.
Was just in the shower
and completely out of the blue it came back to me that i once spent Christmas in a crack house (had buried that one away deep till this morn!)
Wow.
They were shit days.
All that awful guilt.
Fuck me that was dark.
And i remember really wanting to leave and be with my family
but i was somehow indebted to the crack house owner so i had to sit Xmas out with him.
That we were in this shit together.
Yuck.
Fuck that memory.
x

Model on the northern line

Doth the world desire you so my dear?
Bambi lashes
Porcelain pout
We the normal
We the just ok
Who's eyes are drawn
To that perfect alien
Graceful in tatters
Holding the carriages attention
With that nonchalon look of
You are nothing
I have the company of princes and night club owners.
We have nothing in common
Behind these eyes
I think only in diamonds.

More flummoxed than jealous

The lion meets with the greasy man
for coffee every morning on platform 4.
An unlikely match.
She golden glorious,
he greasy like a Parisian from the movies,
desperately in need of a haircut and general spruce.
Legs crossed seaweed dangle,
limp wristed,
oh so nonchalon in ya shiny grey,
and i am flummoxed!
The lion,bold as brass towers over the shabby cheap,shoes and suit.
And she hangs on his every word? Smitten?
For fucks sake have a wash mate!!
Ya killing me!

Yuck

And then suddenly you are there.
Scent of cheap insecurity.
Where the marketing campaigns have worked
and now you're invading my senses with naffness.
I hate Linx.
Try washing instead.