trees and pavements and cars
suburban towns bathed in lampost light
and a well tidied driveway
a garage masquerading as another room

and here i am, just holding you
i cannot help it
stuck to the flipside of a sixpence

there is an awful lot of cold
and an awful lot of loneliness
i would like to stop exchanging gunfire
and exchange it for a little tenderness

i went to the cottage –
on the corner of memory lane
i found it amongst the maps
that made up my brain

just let me hold you tight –
and i promise, i will make it well
you have always fitted the shoe

i am sorry,
i do not fit the bill
for all your pomp and glory
there is a gap that cannot be filled
a nest of insecurities,
hides behind a dream of iron will

may you be –
the opposite to pain
the key to a lock –
for the keys i lost down the drain

where has the confidence gone
is it hiding under stones
is it at home, all alone
where has the confidence gone

where there is something –
that i can bring
must be a marriage
without the wedding ring