An experiment in construction

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Just observational.

Croissants Flying South

Well you can talk about him behind his back
But in mind and body he’s getting used to these stealth attacks.
These stealth attacks, these stealth attacks

Castrated talkers in their dark blue suits
And their pebble dashed perspective from their hob nailed boots
Their hob nailed boots, their hob nailed boots

Incestuous connections is all they want to grow
With extended family, twice removed, full of people they don’t know
But he’d rather be acoustic, disconnected from the mains
As they feel no discomfort from their ill gotten gains
Network to get work, it moves you up the scale
But you won’t get his connection, his mind’s not up for sale.
He’s made to feel so uncomfortable because he cannot stand the cheese
Just give him space so he sit with his hand between his knees

The blackboard blinded and the social whore
Covered head to feet in tittle tattle gore
Tittle tattle gore, tittle tattle gore

With his two darkened eyes from when he couldn’t take no more
He could see his once proud stature, lying on the floor
Lying on the floor

Playground speak ups with the latest “news”
In this gossip city market you can get to pick and choose
“Have you re-designed your kitchen? “Is that a new pair of shoes?”
Tommy got two house points for his “please” and “thank you’s”
Did your blue car pass its MOT when you thought that it would fail?
Is it true a week next Wednesday, there’s yet another cake sale?
And if all else fails they usually end up “down the pub”
Or a secret drinker’s haven disguised as a “book club”

You can spoon your intentions into your children’s mouth
But you can’t stop the croissants from flying south
Flying South.