Flash through my window
Sunlight slipstream
Drivers swearing
While tyres scream
Red stop bus queues
All running late
Old man walking
He won’t wait
Young girl with sad eyes
Baby on her arm
Life seemed so calm
Back on the farm
Why won’t she turn away
From all this madness
She thought her kiss
Would mean success
There’s a world outside
Of the dreams you store
Take steps, don’t hide
You could lose much more
Now the day is dying
And the night is bare
City lights don’t shine
They can only glare
Freedom is counted
Between nines and fives
Punch card wrist job
And time table lives
So buy your ticket
And ride your rail
Letter your tall stories
Where all diaries fail
Why don’t you turn away
From all this madness
Before you change
More than your address
There’s a world outside
Of your four walled door
Have you joined the slide
Leading to the floor
Park bench prophets
With embankment shrines
Dark dustbin treasures
And cardboard goldmines
Down in subway hotels
Beneath concrete streets
Cold pillows of wind
And old newspaper sheets
But in centre circle
There’s a missing link
A face in space
It’s me I think
Why don’t I turn away
From all this madness
I’m just the same
As all the rest I guess.
Lyndon Queripel
