As the plane bumps along the runway
I can’t help but think:
Same shit, different city.
We’ve travelled pretty far
And now I’m all about
Twenty Lucky Stripes and the mini-bar.
Catch your eye against a flat blue backdrop
Bus from the airport and you thinking:
Hotel room – we’ll be there soon
The buildings are nice, alright
But I’m more concerned with
The architecture of you
We lock ourselves in, jet-lagged and jaded
The sun pouring in stubbornly through the crack
Where curtains refuse to meet.
We head out later for something to eat,
Pay for overpriced pizza and bad wine
As I pour our third glass I’d rather be
Pouring myself over you
This place does nothing for us
So the next day,
We throw our guide books to the rats
Buildings shrink as we walk like giants
Through labyrinths of concrete houses and flats,
Through tree-lined avenues and dirty streets
And we’re bigger than it all
Consumed within the possibilities… where are hearts and glasses meet
