Lying on the Grass

Lying on the grass with you
By the banks in Hampstead Heath
Is better then that trip to Paris we took
And driving through France, from Calais,
As the grey clouds changed before our eyes into
The warm sticky Mediterranean sun.

It reminds me of that time with you
When ‘friend’ was the word, or not.
The smell of marijuana in the English breeze
And mad Jack jumping into that lake,
While Chris bemoaned his existence
And I tried to make that daisy chain.

I travelled the whole world with you
Saw the Taj Mahal, and Tutankhamen’s tomb,
Bought cheap cigarettes at the airport in Dubai,
Wish I hadn’t smoked them so fast.
You always say I shouldn’t smoke
Although you do it now and then.

Right now the snow claims the ground
And the trees are naked, how you sleep
But we are here, on the heath lying down.
Who cares if there’s no grass?
We can hold hands, pretend that we
Live in an eternal spring.