20something n going no where

Unfinished

As your spring sun does rise

To mockingly smile at my clouded eyes

I yearn for darkness, in which to brood

to forget your smile, to match my mood

No wind nor thunder, nor snow or rain

Just an overcast grey, dull & mundane

Laying in settled dust

I don't know where i stand, so i'll fall for you instead

i have to follow my heart, as ive already lost my head

butterflies turned to anchors, to way down my heart

i refuse to believe that this was wrong from the start

ya say i chopped ya wings n wouldnt let ya fly

but ya said at the start that my love got you high.

sorry if i blocked ya way, but i dont think thats true

ya wanted an excuse to turn me your favourite shade of blue

i don't know where i stand, so i still lay in this settled dust

a bed you claim i made myself through total lack of trust

and through bitterness and spite i've burned my bridges down

left you where the grass is green and friends are all around.

but now im kinda happy here, making angels in my dust

so dont look back or spare a thought, go do what you must

go and find someone new i'll wish you both the best of luck

smiling and making angels, its someone elses head you'll fuck

and though your pretty now, so ya can make em pay

i'll be there to laugh at ages irreversible decay.

making angels in my dust, waiting for that day

i'm biding my time till the favour starts to sway

AN ENGLISH SUNDAY MORNING

An English sunday morning at half past ten

a rain-soaked battlefield holds 22 men

they stand, shivering and cold, ready for war

adrenaline pumping, waiting to settle the score

mounting tension snaps as the whistle blows

hell is unleashed, the nervous feeling goes.

A subdued game until the first kick goes in

then the bloods up, let the battle begin

there's bruises and blood and words thrown like daggers

being studded on a cold morning really fucking paggers!

but its all worth it, to see the ball hit the net

if you were in pain before, you tend to forget

Half time comes and the men leave the field

the generals motivating words will leave them healed

he offers them advice, on how best to win

some don't listen, but others take it in

this doesn't matter, we all have our own ways

and there's determination carved into every face.

As the game goes on bodies start to tire

but good team spirit can re-kindle the fire

you've been through it all with these reliable men

and win, lose or draw you'll go through it again

the final whistle goes and all hands are shook

apart from that number 7's, he's a right fuck!

An English sunday morning at half past 10

in 2 hours time we'll be saying, "we lost again"

but we don't care because........

an English sunday evening at half past ten

had 3 in the nags and ready for battle again.