The door was open just enough To let last night’s ghost sneak away Like morning mist floating high Disappearing into the day Birdsong with its broken...
Gloucester Green Bus Station 2 o clock saturday afternoon Sun is out burning scalps I’m trying hard not to swoon I met you a week ago And now I am in...
It’s not called a disco anymore It’s a club A works do coerced me I’m too old to be young at heart My prejudices are like tattoos So I pretended not...