So what’s in the back of your little red book?
And why do you smile when you know I’m done?
There’s bait on the air and a lazy old sun
To keep the heat in every inkling
A forest fire of sideways thinking
The tricks all tried
A thousand times
To wrestle down the wind
You fade in the haze of the opening road
I fought for you once but I must let go
Cos how many years can you keep this whole?
Too many other cats are craving
They’re polishing their claws and saying
In fifteen words
What took me years
To hang my name upon
A crowd flowed the isles as Euripides slunk
Over yellow stone cliffs to the home that he loved
You seize this disease ’til you’re all used up
Consoling every unpaid artist
The chance to finish what they started
Another Sunday psalm