Jimmy Is A Ghost

Jimmy is a ghost

Of the man he used to be

He sits in the rain

Drinking second hand tea

And he hopes that his kids

Will never have to see

His hands outstretched

In an ignored plea

Yeah Jimmy is a ghost

Jimmy is a ghost

Off of Oxford Street

He has nothing left to barter

He has nothing left to eat

Just threadbare dreams

And train...

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Dark Tower

Like something from a gothic horror

This is not the way it’s meant to be

Pain and hurt crumbling from unsafe structures

And falling on the governments neglect

Because they’re poor

Because they’re vulnerable

Because they’re ‘not like us’

Souls lost to the flames

That crawled over short cuts

Or worse – over incompetence

Licked around the money ma...

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The Song Of The Wandering

In darkness deeper than the mine
where, once, I scraped my fingers to the bone
a silver seam of moonlight
breaks across the boiling blackness
and I let those self same fingers
idly trail in the cold Mediterranean.
I dream of the golden sunlight
left behind in the dust, distress and bullets.

That was then and this is now.
The churning sea, the angry orders
s...

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