The light of the moon, a powerful calm,
Energetic, poetic, no hint of alarm,
Seemingly cold and distant above,
But somehow warm, with eternal love.
On cold grey days the river snakes,
Like an Instagram filter, obscured and opaque,
Frothing and foaming it laps at the shore,
As into its veins the rains gently pour,
It makes its way to the Mersey bar,
With a gentle grace it waves at a car,
Being loaded onto a passenger ship,
Whose ropes and chains will very soon slip,
I wonder if part of the Mersey tide,
Will travel the oceans far and wide,
Kiss the coasts of New York or Maine,
Or fall onto Cuba as seasonal rain,
Will it carry on travelling to the ends of the Earth?
Bounce up at Bondi as cool Southern surf,
Or will it fall on the Pennines when rains gently pour,
To snake its way back home once more?
Take me apart with a vision of steel,
Leave me here bleeding until I am healed,
You’ll turn up again an apparition in black,
Don’t seek my forgiveness ’cause there’s no looking back.
Chorus:
I need something to aim for a reason to fight,
‘Cause down in the tunnel there’s never been light,
Years of boredom have left me annoyed,
I need wholesale excitement to fill up the void.
I’m sick of being the acrobat tired of playing the clown,
I wanna be ringmaster for a change,
Don’t want to wait in the wings while the fat lady sings,
It’s time for me to take my centre stage.
Chorus.
How could I ignore all the things I saw,
You never tried to hide them from the light,
Hours and hours in the shade of Daisy’s Dock,
I searched but I could not see the green light.
Chorus.
COME HERE QUICK. I’M NOT JOKING. THERE IS THE BIGGEST SPIDER IN THE WORLD IN HERE. DON’T MAKE A NOISE. HURRY NOW. I FEEL SICK.
Hey sweet cheeks. I’m in the mood for you tonight. Grab a blanket and lie with me til dawn.
Footstool says hi. The last time when you drooled on me was exquisite. Sod the bed, be a lazy boy and get with me.
Hey darling, the fridge said you have finished the last of the beer and have started on the wine. Please don’t get too drunk. Last time you did you pissed all over me. Worst thing is you stood on the wardrobe to do it.
I’ve told you, that’s not my thing.
treacs, can you get these magnets off my face? They’re giving me blurred vision and headaches. Yer messing with me coils maaaaaaaaan.
Anyway. Apart from that I’m chilled. Not that you seem arsed like.
And that mozzarella has defo gone on the turn. Smells like goat jizz. Ha ha, Jizzarella.
Lad, you are sick. Me uncle used to be George Best’s wine rack and he said you are taking this shit to a new level. Have more kids quickly. You are going to need loads of kidneys and a few livers.
BEEEAAAASSSSTTTTT!
Dear treacadelic,
I can’t help but notice that I’m fairly empty at the moment. A few tins of ale, some milk and some cheese that looks like it’s seen better days.
Also can’t help noticing that the wine rack is buckling under the weight of all that red stuff.
Have I offended you or something?
The Fridge
Lad, I’m a toaster. You put white bread in me and it comes out brown. Stop putting brown bread in me. It’s really confusing. You’re burning my head out.
Russel Hobbs
A Street End Soul 