lemon revolution

my blood lost its way rivuletting through sand turning and twisting glimmering red beads slide slowly away from my beaten body sun light falls, plummeting through warm summer air but no breath rings in its shimmering pulse only broken bones and rotten clothes once a city trembled here now gone, simply gone and nothing remains but fits of old sirens the dull thud of a lapping sea and rusted shards of useless keys

ribbons wind over my limbs at midnight a python wakes binds bites and breaks me sleep is an awakening into a nightmare where shrapnel and brick rain in smokey blasts where i see my son again screaming in a broken coffin tears break and drop from the cliff of my bruised cheek soiling these pitiless roads in my despair flames gently waver and kiss, as the sun slowly climbs but even they, these restless stones of my quivering hope look weak and tired before my eyes i wonder will i ever see him again and will i ever kiss those soft gentle lips will i ever close shut my creaking front door will my people ever flee off this blood-soaked moor

I must say, the biggest disappointment of the Etihad gig (Sunday) for me was the fans. I went with a bunch of mates who were all loading up on gear, but as a 22 year-old with the £80 chance to see a band that had soundtracked practically every minute of his last 5 years, such an option felt nothing more than foolish. I just wanted to rejoice with thousands of people to my favourite tunes, to hear a stadium bellow out the songs I had poured over endlessly in my bedroom for so long. Unfortunately, the fans were terrible. The warning signs were set alight when, prior to the Roses coming on stage, a gang of lads nearby started singing "10 german bombers in the air" and "England/Vindaloo". 10 german bombers in the air? At a Roses concert? Did these guys know nothing about Ian Brown? The most disheartening point arrived during Bye Bye Badman. My favourite Roses song, the very embodiment of the debut album's ethos and energy, a tune which rattles and blee