My Pockets filled with memories
of you and me grooving to the sweetest of blues.
Nevermore than half awake
with a skip in our step,
And drool on our chins
We waited a while up there.
In the new loft conversions of our brains where we could play all day and life was lovely.
But then came the day,
When a needle began to tickle and tease
For your nose was too stuffed
Stomach too full.
Cuddled up next to bile and water
Linings sat before you upon a porcelain throne
Those youthful indiscretions left sagging and gaunt
For they aged nothing like fine wine
Their light undertones gone
Only bitterness remains.
Whilst lost in the slur of our cerulean serendipity,
we simply swayed along to the rhythm
Now we really feel the blues.
So we lie down on earth for a while
We left our pockets unbuttoned,
those little memories ran away from us into the grass.
Their shadows dancing briefly on our skin,
eventually disappearing into the green.
All that\'s left now is us. Wide awake.
How long have we been lying here?
Please, sister, I want to play!