I really wanna read it, im not even lying
colours merge into this one sticky strechy mass and oh! its raining raining raining on my head and on my shoulders while im walking down rochester highstreet stopping at a few of the christmasy shops with their overly bright-coloured candyfloss and jam and postcards and then we would never run out of postcard jokes, arent we sad?! but no i dont think we re sad, i think im just beginning to enjoy these colours and the cousiness of the christmas smells and shadows in the small shops with low ceiling/and the man in the lorry with brown dreadlocks who was proper scary, im not even joking
the everyday life is determined to steal my, to lock me up,and not let my face anything beyond the shadows and smells and everyting else is just the routine
oh yes, the routine. havent we forgotten about this?
but tell you what
I AIN'T COMPLAININ'
and not copying anyone or anything
aint nothing wrong with a bit of routine around here
I'm all good, man
I'm real good
No comments:
Post a Comment