Up to the fells
And up to the fells
We shall go, we shall
Inhabit spaces occupied by
On this occasion, Domine
But normally by freemasons
Those with pleurisy
Those with quantities of malt whiskey
Will go on barge cruises and
Her face...
Her face...will be forever
In soft focus
Anybody's face is forever soft focus
Going by a recent email story, this
Man of the lodge is not unusual
In trying his hand, speaking
Of which
His hand lingers longer than
Usual, strokes hair
There is no boob sideswipe in
This instance though
That would be too much
I like the signing off from a new friend
It goes like this...
Love like scrambled eggs
I play children's games and am
Deafened by cartoon soundtracks, i hear
Repeat tales of trips to Australia, dogs and
Tattoos, these appear out of the blue and when
They are not relevent
Oh...and Robbie slags Michael in his video
I consider some of the more tortuous aspects of
This role and wonder if i will replay them in the
Future...a bit like that feller in The Deer
Hunter who shoots himself in the head
Love like sweet jam and bread