I want more than an empty void.
Then come calls for a man called Lloyd.
No idea what its all about.
Then appear the suits with a smirk and some clout.
Motions are what brought you along.
One day they might be long gone.
But at no point did I agree to this.
Then comes in the final punching fist.
A strike so hard that the world goes blurry.
I don’t mean me cause everything has fury.
Stacking up counters until someone shouts win.
Grumbles then follow with a claim its: no such thing.
Ruckus and chants seem the same.
They all end up in pointing fingers for blame.
What a disaster that was bred right here.
Someone hurry up and hand me a fresh beer.
Writhe to the left and wriggle to the right.
One, two, three then shriek in fright.
Costume party filled with no host.
Who will be the next one that decides to boast?
It always happens and then descends to a brawl.
It’s more civil to be nailed to a wall.
So don’t step in unless you like the violence.
Personally I’d rather spend these moments in silence.
Bang of the gong that chimes off-key.
Is that true or was it all just me?
Can’t place whether what I see is true.
Fine I give up, and simply join the queue.
Shackle my legs and name me Sonny.
Its a joke and I don’t care its not funny.
And just cause someone is breaking in,
Doesn’t mean that I will do a thing.
After all you wanted me to stay quiet.
Sick of how I always apparently start with Wyatt.
But that’s not true cause I don’t know the guy.
Still stating such results as I wave goodbye.
Lesson not learned I couldn’t give a damn.
Lets see if we can get back on the tram.
I know I’m drunk and we’ve been all night.
And no I don’t want to start any fight, alright?
Simon A Jackson - Writer 