Quote:
Originally Posted by Bob Dawson
Lived a year in the last hour…
But it’s all disaster movie stuff
where silence is the code
and revenge is not enough.
The one-eyed king says to the blind,
all beauty has been redefined;
(there is a rainbow in the room)
(it is resting on the palm of your hand)
(John Cooper Clarke, the British street poet)
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Beasley Street, one of his best.
I never thought I would be discussing John Cooper Clarke with a Canadian on a Parkinson's forum.
Guess this proves that genius and good taste know no boundaries
"The perfume of the essence rare
That lingers in the lift
He's a prince among the peasants where
She's working on the nidnight shift
You're gonna find her stuck in the lift
To the wonderland of vice
You're gonna find her on the midnight shift
With feet like blocks of ice
She carried water for the mainman
She had to walk the streets
She married a door-to-door salesman
Who worked away all week
She lived with an empty chair
Until the final rift
She didn't have a thing to wear
She had to work on the midnight shift
You're gonna find her frozen stiff
You think you been hurt
You're gonna find her on the midnight shift
Standing in the dirt"
(Midnight Shift JCC).
Take care buddy,
Neil.
Nothing else to say just read and listen to the truth
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