Rock and Rant. John(The Celt) Roach doing the reading of the poetry, music by Smokindog and words by the one and only Straycat.
smokindog and the bluezer
…and it’s only Monday
By Straycat
The usual clash:
I turn in the bed, pull them sheets over my head
They continually but hopelessly attack the absurd oddity
Of a dream so real I still shake
Adjust to the nastiest of lights,
Artificial and so bright it might………burn its spite right into your eyes
[You’ll have a hell of a time trying to hide]
At this point, avoid the mirror
Just get this face clear ………and smooth, dreary, bleak, yes, discreet
[Go unnoticed- sympathy is defeat]
One sad smile and off to the tram,
Prevent touch with a bit of luck
I don’t want any contact
Leave me to work
And release me to home
Where I’ll be alone
Waiting on the telephone
Maybe I ought to plan an escape
But I’ll end up in that same old bed anyway
I have things to do and wounds to scratch yet
I won’t lay here apart again tonight
With no one to confide in these dreams when I wake fearing
Death in every corner
Pleading "let me make it to the morning"
Aching for a new dawning
With you here and no need to leave,
A day that belongs to no one else
John
