away days
Waking up and feeling tired and ill. Beer lingering in my breath and in my eyes and feeling cold. Pull on the socks and walk through the fold, morning after morning a play skip repeat. Greeting those golden eyes at Euston station, a hug, handshake, snacks, the seats and the words start to roll.
The walk is what makes it, dreams splattered on the sky's canvas as the sun begins to rise, will he wont he, will we wont we. A pub in the midlands, near the station. More faces, hymns of redemption and our brotherhood; a burger, two beers though faces still shudder against the bright midday frost.
Steps around our palace in awe and fawning, it's orange steel crest upon the brick pillars. A million eyes dart inside. The doors snap shut and our voices roar the hymns like volcanoes. I stand close to him and the others. We sing and jump, dance, a bundle of matchsticks falling and crying, tumbling onto one another down into the light. And I feel warm, renewed and redrawn.
The walk is what makes it, dreams splattered on the sky's canvas as the sun begins to rise, will he wont he, will we wont we. A pub in the midlands, near the station. More faces, hymns of redemption and our brotherhood; a burger, two beers though faces still shudder against the bright midday frost.
Steps around our palace in awe and fawning, it's orange steel crest upon the brick pillars. A million eyes dart inside. The doors snap shut and our voices roar the hymns like volcanoes. I stand close to him and the others. We sing and jump, dance, a bundle of matchsticks falling and crying, tumbling onto one another down into the light. And I feel warm, renewed and redrawn.
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