THE DARK

With a bottle of pop

And crisps in a bag

And a book in the sack

That I carry on my back.

ALL WRAPPED UP

I get all up and tangled

In all this new fangled.

What’s wrong with the past?

The past was built to last.

NEVER

One thing I think is for sure

I will never know

What I never know.

So I return to be found

In the long forgotten sound