Songs of childhood
make me think of
poems yet to come
In my young days
when I heard music
I heard the drums
Now I'm older
I like the tunes that
only I can hum
Standing in the doorway, lighting up a cigarette. Black hat, black coat, hiding in the shadows.
It's the future: poems yet to come
Lurking in a subway, waiting for the night time. Moody, broody, rode around the back way.
It's the future: poems yet to come
Songs of glory
make me think of
lives yet to come
In my young days
never fearful
of the men with guns
Now I'm older
strange things happen
And I'm on the run
Fighting for the righteous, flying round like acrobats. Oddments, bookends, anything to hold it in.
It's the future: lives yet to come
Winding up at Waitrose, taking back the trolley. Smart card, smart car, think about creative arts.
It's the future: lives yet to come
Songs of sadness
make me think of
from where I've come
In my young days
I stayed cheerful
by staying stumm
Now I'm thinking
I can't do better
than I've already done
Lying in the sunshine, listening to Latin tunes. Salsa, cha-cha, dancing round the living room
It's the future: from where we've come
Making love at lunchtime, hugging in the afternoon. Small pond, big pond, chitter-chatter in the gloom
It's the future: from where we've come
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