Mar 5, 2016





It's getting late, for scribbling and scratching on the paper.Something's gonna give under this pressure and the cracks are already beginning to show. It's too late, the weekend career girl never boarded the plane.They said this could never happen again. So wrong, so wrong.This time it seems to be another misplaced rendezvous ;this time, it's looking like another misplaced rendezvous with you, the parallel of you, you. On the outskirts of nowhereon the ringroad to somewhereon the verge of indecision, I'll always take the roundabout way waiting on the rain.For I was born with a habit, from a sign. The habit of a windswept thumb and the sign of the rain. Rain on me. Start to rain, start to rain, start tot rain...

Wide boys, wide boys, wide boys, born with hearts of Lothian.Wide boys, we were wide boys, born with hearts of Lothian.Wide boys, we were wide boys, these hearts of Lothian.It's six o'clock in the tower blocks, stalagmites of culture shock. And the trippers of the light fantastic, bow down, hoe-down,spray their pheromones on this perfume uniform.And anarchy smiles in the Royal Mile and they're waiting on the slyboys, flyboys, wideboys,rooting, tooting cowboys, lucky little ladies at the watering holes.They'll score the Friday night goals.I was born with a heart of Lothian,I was born with a heart of Lothian, with a heart of LothianI was born with a heart of Lothian, with a heart of Lothian. And the man from the magazine  wants another shot of you all curled up,'Cos you look like an actor in a movie shot. But you're feeling like a wino in a parking lot. How did I get in here anyway? Do we really need a playback of the show?'Cos the wideboys want to head for the watering holes.Let's go.

And the man in the mirror has sad eyes.

( Lyrics : Bitter Suite, Heart of Lothian - Marillion )


Somewhere in the mirror, nowhere in the rain. Hearts, like watering holes.




No comments:

People