Ring Road
I want you to be the way I want you to be
and when you’re not it hurts me
like
shredded tape something sticky
for
security
wrapped tight
around a metal box to imitate
security
there’s a blue sky over me
but the fear is on me
in a place where ball games are strictly forbidden
luxury two bedroom departments
overlook the trafficlights next to the rails
it’s a hot day
it’s a
it’s a hot day
a lazy day for some
but I’m bringing from the inside all these things
I see a wall
I know’s gonna fall down
maybe hurt somebody
after it’s been
tagged
a flyer posted
it’s a rushed job
it looks good for long enough
knock em out and sell em
move on it’s a
fast buck
and the race is on
to get in get out
get what you want get out
it’s the short term
the long term can look out for itself
unless you happen to be living here
I gotta stop
people are squinting to block out the sun
complaining or sucking it up
praying for rain the next minute for a sun-scorched earth
what’s it worth
enough is never enough
let’s have a little ?moment?
put the world to rest
sit back and watch it all slide by
it’s the view from a train
pay somebody else to drive
see the suits
passing the suits
sunning themselves on the steps of the supermarkets
and I think of you and I’m alone like this
burning from the inside
I found a new door I didn’t know where it went
I went through I came out in this shopping mall where
boys wear England shirts
and Westham shirts
and Isenham shirts
and the boys from Dagenham where jackets
called Harlem
grinning at the door of the
handsomest sex-shop
it’s St George’s day
and all the old people smile
the young people look hungry
looking for a new door
I’m in the sun at the back of the shops
where the purple wheelie-bins
are pushed up against the doors that say
fire-exit
the smell of grease
there’s a broken glass thing under my feet
the boys stop for a smoke in the sun
and watch girls cross from the job centre
to the station
a drunk stands in the door of a pub
a bunch of peasticks in one hand
a Cheery carrier-bag hanging in the other
hanging in the other
girls in England shirts read the papers
and giggle at the table in a café
offering home-made dinners
it’s good food
but your clothes come out smelling of grease
I got my back to the rail at the end of the alley
by the bypass
you might just see me
scratching all these things
inking it out
deliver us from temptation
and doubt there is an abandoned trolley
called safe and radio one and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on and on
and another
England shirt out in the sun
spring falls in pink
on the blacktop and cracks
black and yellow tape covers the scene of a break-in
and every time I think of you
I get my peace back
people are squinting to block out the sun
complaining or sucking it up
praying for rain the next minute for a sun-scorched earth
what’s it worth
enough is never enough
let’s have a little ?moment?
put the world to rest
sit back and watch it all slide by
it’s the view from a train
pay somebody else to drive
see the suits
passing the suits
sunning themselves on the steps of the supermarkets
and I think of you and I’m alone like this
burning from the inside
and when you’re not it hurts me
like
shredded tape something sticky
for
security
wrapped tight
around a metal box to imitate
security
there’s a blue sky over me
but the fear is on me
in a place where ball games are strictly forbidden
luxury two bedroom departments
overlook the trafficlights next to the rails
it’s a hot day
it’s a
it’s a hot day
a lazy day for some
but I’m bringing from the inside all these things
I see a wall
I know’s gonna fall down
maybe hurt somebody
after it’s been
tagged
a flyer posted
it’s a rushed job
it looks good for long enough
knock em out and sell em
move on it’s a
fast buck
and the race is on
to get in get out
get what you want get out
it’s the short term
the long term can look out for itself
unless you happen to be living here
I gotta stop
people are squinting to block out the sun
complaining or sucking it up
praying for rain the next minute for a sun-scorched earth
what’s it worth
enough is never enough
let’s have a little ?moment?
put the world to rest
sit back and watch it all slide by
it’s the view from a train
pay somebody else to drive
see the suits
passing the suits
sunning themselves on the steps of the supermarkets
and I think of you and I’m alone like this
burning from the inside
I found a new door I didn’t know where it went
I went through I came out in this shopping mall where
boys wear England shirts
and Westham shirts
and Isenham shirts
and the boys from Dagenham where jackets
called Harlem
grinning at the door of the
handsomest sex-shop
it’s St George’s day
and all the old people smile
the young people look hungry
looking for a new door
I’m in the sun at the back of the shops
where the purple wheelie-bins
are pushed up against the doors that say
fire-exit
the smell of grease
there’s a broken glass thing under my feet
the boys stop for a smoke in the sun
and watch girls cross from the job centre
to the station
a drunk stands in the door of a pub
a bunch of peasticks in one hand
a Cheery carrier-bag hanging in the other
hanging in the other
girls in England shirts read the papers
and giggle at the table in a café
offering home-made dinners
it’s good food
but your clothes come out smelling of grease
I got my back to the rail at the end of the alley
by the bypass
you might just see me
scratching all these things
inking it out
deliver us from temptation
and doubt there is an abandoned trolley
called safe and radio one and on and on and on and on
and on and on and on and on
and another
England shirt out in the sun
spring falls in pink
on the blacktop and cracks
black and yellow tape covers the scene of a break-in
and every time I think of you
I get my peace back
people are squinting to block out the sun
complaining or sucking it up
praying for rain the next minute for a sun-scorched earth
what’s it worth
enough is never enough
let’s have a little ?moment?
put the world to rest
sit back and watch it all slide by
it’s the view from a train
pay somebody else to drive
see the suits
passing the suits
sunning themselves on the steps of the supermarkets
and I think of you and I’m alone like this
burning from the inside