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Some Candy Talking – 10


     We are all getting that old-time counselling

     Why? Is it so good to talk

     Spill the beans … a veritable verbal wrist slashing … let it all out … and then you will surely not want to live … yes, let it all spill out

     Everything … what … oh, sorry, I was not really listening

     Survive or drown, say nothing … just a little light entertainment … the rescue, a futile gesture for tomorrow … and always just a game to play, you know it is playtime again

     You are always so very good … going down … sinking so far beneath the tossing waves … surfs up, boys … a life guardian on patrol again, protect me from this life … we are all so very life intolerant, every single one of us


     The soldiers all go marching along … in step, in time, in disbelief … so rank and filed in their uniform, so smart, so eager, so what … no more hiding, no more camouflage, no more

     Hot red lips and nails … as if … a cigarette still burns, as if … no life, we was only looking … and these careless thoughts are only there to give all the little games away … breathe in deep … playtime, again and again … a broken heart … so, so real … exhale … just to kiss and make it better … be still

     Hup, two, three …

     In flats or heels?

     Yes … flexion …

     Ooh, get her!

     Hup, two, three, four …

     You know he still wears those old white sling-backs

     Onwards and …

     Alright, already … we are all now giving of our best

     Hup, two, three, four … Hup, two, three, four … and step, turn, step, point, kick and now, again … yeah, you’re all in such timeless motion … and … and … yeah, you go girl

     So like he was my baby


     Raise the fist … yes, you there … defiant … as you vaguely hold these little attitudes, obscure the platitudes, and we wonder, wander in the sharply brittle bottle battle mindscape … the jagged edges … just pose in blood, in your own abstract creations

     You are still in love with him … so … no love lost

     Give it up … give it up … give it all up for him … for that brave boy, blindfold and without any perception … no protection … all alone in the ganzfeld … cover me as I run

     Open to the lies … it hurts … feel so bad for the one who is left behind … lying there unmoving … no love lost

     Home is the hero, home from the sea

     Home is only there when the hurt is … no love lost … no love … lost … so close, so close the eyes and cover me

     Home is the hero …

     Home for his tea …


     So you are staring at the sun – go on, visualise – so you stare at the sun – concentrate – stare at the sun – until there is only that one blurred image left – scarred onto the retinal discs – and through the scars comes that focussing image, T-shirts and tight blue jeans – and, like all the words, that 3D effect still makes no sense – the lights are on but no one is at home – the lights are on but no one ever cares – on, off, on, off – are they on or are they off? – and yet, to see or even hear what is happening to him inside, I wonder – no, I thought not – those soundless screams seem to share such sharply splintered lives, it still shows so slightly through the cracks – clever, yes, so very clever – and if you try hard enough to break down those hiding walls, be sure to never understand – postcard, a tribute – I don’t think you’re listening

     Going down in a blaze of glory – see Jesse James, go weak at the knees – desperado, a low-slung gun – bang, bang … bang – see Jesse James go weak at the knees – going down – in a blaze of glory

     Yes … yes … wow, what effects

     The sunburst finish


     … and do not forget to buy the T-shirt on your way out … there is only the one to have … it is stained with the face of Steve Diggle and showered in the blood of the martyr … never want to wake up, if only

     Pay the price … been there, done that … pay the price, count the cost … such a life is not cheap at any price … it only flashes so very quickly before our bleary eyes … and I really thought that I had done so much more

     The running man he runs for me … and breathlessly he asks … if there will still be time … enough … to redeem … a single mistake

     Yeah, but which one … don’t smile, you know that there have been a lot, there have always been so many

     Yes, we know

     … and the crowds leave, again


     … and so we are all out of here, we are all going home … and yet, tonight, across a crowded room …

     A tinkling piano … the memory is playing tricks … it was always Sid at the Gaumont … a cry, a wave, and when all is said and done … still … now there is no one home

     … just a smile and it will mean everything that I think I may want … the eyes dilate and beg … please … don’t make me have to crawl … please … just a silent whisper, baby

     So I look for him and, with that eyebrow flash, turn on the happy smile ... it says it all, surely everything that is ever needed … come on then … and, yes, you will always want to believe everything that you read … Hell …

     You love and you kiss him, dancing the night away …

     Be still my beating heart

     

     Goodbye, my friends

      

Toss that one at them, Tiger!