ROUGE
High up outside the mountain chalet
the snow falls for long hours every day
I wish I had a real boy to help me
says the puppet-maker tugging at my strings

I wish I was a real boy I reply
but the puppet-maker can't hear me
he takes a chisel and shaves my face
with a soft brush and rouge he paints my lips

If you could walk you'd be a real boy
he stands me up like a new born donkey
he closes my eyes and makes a wish
I can talk listen to me I can walk look at me
25012013

Song

YESTERMORROW

When fifty-five to midnight strikes

the second hand tock-ticks

and everything goes backwards

even the bloody film

but they don't care

just standing there

they've been there a long time too

six feet under in the wood

they'd push up daisies if they could.

But after-morning never seems to change

it always wants to stay the same.

And my guru say's

'hey, it's just like it was

a thousand years ago.'

An' Yestermorrow is just one eternal day.

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