He couldn't see it moving
Couldn't even bring himself to look
With his head between his feet
And his feet in the wet concrete

She had no fear of the big sleep
She couldn't even catch a wink
With her eyes shot full of blood
And her blood like primordial mud

Such a lonely time
Healing the wounds
But nothing can fix time
(Here it comes again)
Thirteen storeys down
In the city underground

A subterranean poet
His odes to what should never be
Had a palsy in his hands
And his hands had their own secret plans

The people smiling like billboards
21st century disease
Shared a memory of the sun
And the sun was a pitiless gun

Such a lonely time
Chasing that ghost
But nothing can catch time
(Here it comes again)
Thirteen storeys down
In the city underground

It’s not what you know
It’s never what you know

Such a lonely time
Plugging the holes
But nothing can stop time
(Here it comes again)
Thirteen storeys down
In the city underground

©2004 John Newlands