it is so happy
that there is nothing to say
happy is not bright
it is bland, if not quite grey

these beaches
are the peaches
on which i feast

as i hope
that i will realise one tenth
of what i could be
but first she will have to wash
the artificial light out of me

watch them dilute your worth
treat you as an idiot
a piece of dirt
you look for wit
and something clever to say

your soft welcome home
i am the things
your wanted
i never came with a guarantee

they day came
and work loomed
what happened
to the young man
dreaming their way along the strand

have you ever felt to low
as if your soul
the very fabric
has been torn apart

it is someone in a mask
but…
have you seen the world stage
a procession of people –
talking out of their arse

they tell us,
that the world is a safer place
how can i believe that
i do not see that on the blood stained faces

finally starting to find my home
i remember,
when i was just nineteen
and when you were all alone