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Saturday, November 02, 2013

Just for fun...

The following story was originally published in Nicola Batty's Newsletter Raw Meat in October and November 2006 and guess what? Nothing's changed.

I went for a fifty five minute ride on my mountain bike this morning. I didn't plan it that way, it just evolved. I had been threatening to do some strenuous exercise since the summer break and nothing had really happened. Until we had to go to Nic's Doctors this morning at St Georges near the Dry Rot church. I suggested that we should go over to the Bridgewater Canal and have a look at the new St Georges Island development. But nobody else seemed interested and I knew how difficult this stretch of towpath can be for Ziggy as we have walked it many times. So, I got the old bike out of the shed and inflated the tyres and rode to my hairdressers instead.
My barber Artie was busy and told me to come back in an hour, so I decided to go for a little cycle ride. I started out from Artie's on Claremont Road and headed west towards Princess Road where I turned northwards towards the city centre. I crossed Great Western street and Moss Lane and rode on past the Hulme Asda, through the new Science Park and eventually turned left onto Stretford Road at the Hulme Arch. I continued westwards to the Zion Centre buildings where I turned right into the newly landscaped park and cycled northwards to the million pound plus footbridge that spans the Mancunian Way. The bridge was a steep climb for an unfit overeater but I managed it in first gear. Coming down on the other side of the busy highway was the fun part and I was glad that my brakes still worked. A little jiggle to the right and then to the left around an NCP car park and I was out on the busy Bridgewater Way at the bottom end of Deansgate. From here I could see St. Georges church.
I crossed both carriageways of the main Chester Road and freewheeled towards the Canal Basin at Castlefield Quays. I checked my watch as I spotted the dark green water of the Bridgewater Canal in front of me. I had been cycling for fifteen minutes. There were a few narrow boats tied up on the canal side but no traffic on the waterway. To my right in the near distance stood the Venetian church. Today, however, I turned left onto the towpath where I was joined by a dozen or so middle aged joggers. I soon lost most of them as we had to climb the many little hump backed bridges that span the little wharves and inlets off the main canal. It is quite possible to ride at a good pace along this Castlefield stretch of the Bridgewater Canal but the cobble style stones in places do make it quite difficult and I do remember it is a nightmare for anybody in Ziggy.
I cycled on past Hulme Lock and the still incomplete St. Georges Island development, which appears to tower out of the water. At this point the tow path got a bit hairy, the ground is a bit soft and it goes very narrow especially under the Hulme Hall Road bridge. The eighteenth century towpath continues to be a bit squashy for another hundred yards or so as you pass under the nineteenth century railway arches that carry the twentieth century trains and the twenty first century trams out of town. Once I got past Cornbrook Bridge the going was easier but still quite narrow. There was by now only one jogger in front of me and he turned back at Pomona lock (which allows boats from the Bridgewater canal to enter the Manchester Ship Canal.) The only obstacles in my way now were a couple of anglers and a few walkers. You could be forgiven for thinking you were out in the countryside at this point but the great mass of waste land is a giant brownfield site. I had heard that someone had gained planning permission to construct a number of apartment blocks, in the style of a ships sails, at one of the docks off Pomona Strand but I saw no evidence of this at all.
I cycled on towards Throstle Nest bridge. In a deep cutting to my left were a number of railway lines and on my immediate right of course was the thick dark green water of the Bridgewater Canal. Beyond the canal the Metrolink trams run on a newly constructed overhead track to Salford Quays and on to the place where the Eccles cakes come from. Just before you reach Throstle Nest Bridge at White City you have to go past the overhead tram stop at Pomona. The tow-path on the south side of the canal which I had been cycling on since Castlefield Quays runs out here and you have to cross the canal by an ancient horse bridge. A quick glance at my watch told me it had taken me twenty five minutes to reach this point. I crossed over but came off the canal here and then crossed the Manchester Ship Canal at Trafford Road swing bridge. (The swing bridge is now welded permanently shut, so big ships can no longer reach Pomona Docks even if they wanted to.)
cycled through the maze of offices on the Salford side of the Ship Canal, finding a passage to the north bank (Salford bank) near to the Colgate factory on Ordsall lane. From here on it was an easy ride back towards the city centre and away from Salford Quays as the Ship Canal bank is wide and concrete and firm. I road as far as the Woden Street footbridge which is just about where the Manchester, Salford and Trafford boundaries meet, and where I believe the Ship Canal ends and becomes the River Irwell. It was difficult to ride up this terraced bridge but not impossible. I chose to dismount and take a look at the ever changing view. I say ever changing in the sense that it had changed considerably since I was last there a few months ago.
It's a strange place, if you look eastwards from Woden Street footbridge up the Irwell you can see the Manchester skyline in the distance and in the foreground the many new apartment blocks of the St.Georges Island development come into view. Looking westwards down the Ship Canal you can see Salford Quays and the Old Trafford football ground in the distance. In the foreground to your left is the giant brownfield site of the former Pomona Docks. On your right hand side, which is the Salford bank, a number of tacky warehouses and small manufacturing units litter the space between the Ship Canal and Ordsall Lane. What a waste of space this whole area has become.
To give you an idea of the enormity of the size of the place it's roughly the same distance as looking up the River Liffy from O'Connell Street Bridge to Phoenix Park in Dublin or the whole length of The Grand Canal from The Rialto Bridge in Venice. The easiest way to check it out for yourself is to take the Metrolink Tram from G-Mex to Salford Quays on the Eccles Line and you'll pass right through this area. Pay particular attention to the waste land between Cornbrook Station and the next stop at Pomona. It's incredible to think that you could build a whole city centre on this almost forgotten vacant lot. What a missed opportunity for someone! Of course I haven't checked to see if anybody has plans submitted to redevelop this area and the powers that be certainly don't consult me. So, when I say that this is a missed opportunity, I may well be barking up the wrong drainpipe.
I remounted and rode the short distance across the rest of the bridge. I negotiated the dark and gloomy overhead railway arches and emerged into the relative daylight close to the St Georges Island development, which used to be the site of the North Western Bus Company's Depot. As I crossed the Bridgewater Canal on Hulme Hall Road I checked the time. I had been cycling for a full forty minutes now, it must be time to head back. I crossed the busy main Chester Road and took the quiet Barrack Street with its cute little houses. I cycled on past the Doctors Surgery on City Road and continued onto Royce Road crossing over the busier Chorlton Road so as to stay away from the bulk of the traffic.
On I rode, crossing Stretford Road and Greenheyes Lane onto the still unfinished Hulme High Street, past Hulme Market and Moss Side Leisure Centre to the junction of Moss Lane. Here I crossed over the busy highway onto the Alexandra Park Estate, following the road around Quinney Crescent to its junction with Great Western Street, where I turned left, managing to cross Princess Road on a green traffic light. Taking the first turn to my right I proceeded in a southerly direction towards Claremont Road and the famous Artie's Barbershop. Total journey time fifty five minutes.
Here are some facts and figures from my 
Fifty five minute ride…
The dry rot church is actually called St Georges.
Dry Rot is the title of one of Nicola Batty's novels.
The Bridgewater Canal is the oldest proper canal in Britain.
Saint Georges Island is built on a former bus depot.
Ziggy is the name of Nicola Batty's wheelchair.
Nic's Doctor is at City Road Surgery Hulme.
The main Chester Road is the A56.
The Hulme Arch spans Princess Road.
The Mancunian Way, A57(M) is the Manchester inner relief route.
Bridgewater Way is the new bit of the A56.
Castlefield Basin, originally Junction, is also known as Castlefield Quays.
The Venetian Church, was built as The Congregational chapel in 1853.
Hulme Lock, Bridgewater Canal - R. Medlock - R. Irwell.
Pomona Lock, Bridgewater Canal - Ship Canal.
The Manchester Ship Canal is Thirty five and a half miles long, two hundred and thirty feet wide and twenty eight feet deep. The fixed road and rail bridges that cross it are more than sixty feet high.
Pomona Strand is an abandoned road at Pomona Docks.
Pomona Docks, Originally (part of) Manchester Docks, now derelict, on the Manchester Ship Canal.
Cornbrook Bridge, stepped access to Bridgewater Canal from Cornbrook Rd.
Royce Road, where the first Rolls Royce car was built.
Salford Quays, formerly piers 6 - 9 in The Port of Manchester.
G-MEX, Greater Manchester Exhibition Centre, formerly Manchester's Central Railway Station.
Princess Road, A5103 - City centre - M56 motorway.
Artie's Barbershop is on Claremont Road, Moss Side.
Moss Lane, Is the home of Hydes Brewery, they now also brew Boddingtons Cask.
Dublin is the capital city of Eire.
Venice has nearly as many miles of canal as Birmingham.
Birmingham, unlike Manchester, doesn't have a Ship Canal, yet!
Throstle Nest Bridge. There used to be a pub on Seymour Grove      called The Throstles Nest.
Metrolink, Manchester's tram system.
Horse bridge. Bridge to allow barge-pulling horses, access to the opposite towpath. 

Monday, June 17, 2013

Wendy Naisa Script #2

Wendy Naisa

Act Two


"He's writing a book you know!" Jon tells Natasha, over a cappuccino at Vegables cafe in Oldham Street. It's raining outside, but that's par for the course, in Manchester.

"It always friggin' rains when you get dressed up like a dogs dinner." Says Natasha, before taking a sip of her frothy coffee.

"You're not listening to me, are you Nat?" Questions Jon, tapping his little finger on the chequered Formica pattern of the round table top in the window seat, where they always sit.

"What?" Asks Natasha, what were you saying, Jon?" She smiles at her long time lover, pursing her violet lippied lips, in a teasing sort of way.

"He's writing a flaming book!" Jon repeats his opening statement.

"Who is?"

"He is!"

"Who's he?"

"You know, him! That Danny fellow, who tells all those funny jokes!"

"I don't think they're funny."

"I know, I don't either, but he does."

"Who does?"

"He does, Danny bloody Wise!"

"His poems are better than his jokes."

"Yeah, yeah, maybe one or two, but the rest are crap! Anyway, that's not the fluming point is it?"

"What's the point then?"

"The point is, he's writing a book!"

Wendy Naisa is an anagram of Andy Sewina.   

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Wendy Naisa script #1

Wendy Naisa

Act One


“You can’t say you’re invisible and just disappear like that!” Shouts Natasha.

The room is empty and a cold breeze springs-up from somewhere.

“Where are you, where are you hiding?” She screams into the empty, rapidly becoming cavernous room.

She pulls a woolly jumper off the back of a reclining chair and wraps it around her shoulders, pulling it tight like a blanket. ‘Bloody English summers,’ she mutters audibly.

She turns around and faces the window, just as the glass shatters. She ducks then falls to the floor, “bleeding ‘ell!” She shouts.

The room is getting bigger! It’s disintegrating!

“Where have you gone, Jon!” She bellows in a slow, precise, pleading, sort of way.

An electric light bulb shatters and more glass hits the floor.

“Nobody’s invisible, nobody’s invisible, nobody’s invisible.” She rants, over and over again.

Her voice becomes hoarse with chanting. Crouching on the floor she hears a peal of thunder, the ceiling plaster starts to crack. Natasha can’t see it, it’s much too dark in her elongated room.

For a split second the whole space is illuminated by a flash of lightening, a strange and eerie silence is followed by a clock ticking somewhere in the room, tick tock, tick tock.

‘Five, six, seven, eight’ she counts in an animated hoarse whisper.

Her numeration cut short by a thunderous crash. The whole house, the timber frame, the exterior cement, the internal plaster, the bricks and mortar, the breaking of glass, the tangle of electric cables, the twisted water pipes, and then finally the leaking gas pipe ignites!

Wendy Naisa is an anagram of Andy Sewina.

Saturday, April 06, 2013

Something old something new

NaPoWriMo 2013
Okay, it's April and that means National Poetry Writing Month in the USA. For those with poetry blogs, it gives the opportunity to write thirty poems in thirty days. I have been taking part on my SweetTalkingGuy blog since 2009, so this is my fifth year.
Writing so many pieces in such a short space of time makes for a lot of first draft poems, however I've found that I usually get about six or seven during the month that I can publish. So my idea is to make a collection of the best of my NaPoWriMo posts and publish it as an eBook later this year. You can read my NaPoWriMo posts on my SweetTalkingGuy blog.
I found an old poetry notebook today while spring cleaning my cupboards, so I'm going to share a couple of oldies with you. (Don't worry, they're very short.)The first one is from November 1982 and the second one dates back to March 1984.
By the way, if anyone is actually reading this page, the only possible advice I could offer any writer, is for him/her to date their work. I have always done this and every poem I write has a date code beneath it. Looking back over twenty or thirty years I find this to be invaluable.
As you down there
in the threepennies know
that poets come two
for a penny
but the star of the show
is a twopenny poet
that's why you get
three for your money
Don't settle for
suburban comforts
why settle for
materialistic things
turn your helicopter
into a gunship
and terminate
your private war
Finally, I will give you another short piece that I only wrote recently but then discarded, I resurrected it today from my poetry notes file.
Wow, it's amazing
the things that they say
They say things like
What goes up must come down
Time still goes round
if the clock is unwound
Phew, it's amazing
the things that they say

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Winter writing thing

Based on Luke Prater's poem After Dark,
I wrote the following for the River Muse winter writing thing in January.


traffic sat nav midnight heat
bleeps the cell phone when she comes
tarmacadam manic street
god knows we don’t know who’s won

cold and lonely why oh why
chills not thrills bright neon lights
make up runs into his eye
secret urban fox at nights

snorting naughty cut cocaine
motorola masks the sound
from his chauffer driven brain
bumping thumping spinning round

home's where he should phone and be
brooklyn six nine five four three


Saturday, February 09, 2013

Comedy Script - #Two

Okay, we’re going to start with a little song I wrote…
it’s got three verses and a bit of a chorus…
you can help me with the chorus!!!

It’s about Janet… or was it Jayne?
I've got this problem with my short term memory…

I get names mixed up… and I can never ever remember faces!…
So, I went to the doctors, and he said ‘How are you?”
And I said “I’m feeling very well, thank you!”
“So why are you here then?” the doctor asks me.
“I can’t remember!” I tell him… “Who are you anyway?… Where am I?”…

Anyway, did I say we were going to do a song?…
This is one of those songs that sounds like something else…  
Remember that Lou Reed song? Vicious!
I always used to think he said Fishes! 
“Only joking… that’s too fishy!…”

Anyway, Janet! or Jayne?…
Is the name of my song…
but it sounds like Janitor Jayne!
The school janitor!!!

It goes like this… Janet or Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
Did she say Janet!
Or did she say Jayne?
And that’s just the chorus, or half of it… 
the other half is the same after the first two verses,
and slightly different after the final verse…

I went out with this girl last night…
but I can’t remember anything about it…                    
I can’t remember what she looks like either…
But the worst thing is… I can’t remember her name!

I got a phone call this morning, and it said  Jan calling
I thought who the Eccles cakes is Jan?
And then I thought… Jan could be short for Janet…
or for Jayne… so I answered the phone… 
I said “Pronto!” like they do in Italy, only joking, I said “Hello!”

And someone on the other end of the phone said “Hello! Buggerlugs?”
I said “No!… I think you've got the wrong number!”
“That’s strange…” said the voice.
“Only I've just found this phone… 
and your number is the first one in the address book…
and it says that your name is Buggerlugs!”

“I don’t know anyone who calls me that…” I tell her,
“Some people call me Slobberchops!
(do the slobberchops impression) when I go like that!”
(repeat the slobberchops impression) …
then I ask her if her name’s Jan?

“No, she says, my name’s Yan, spelt YAN… 
and the correct pronunciation of it is I Anne!!”
“Okay, I Anne,” I said… where did you find the phone?”
“In the pub toilets!” she says…
and she tells me the name of the pub…
but I’ve forgotten it already!

“Can you tell me which Jan this phone belongs to,
so I can give it them back?” She asks me.
I say “It must belong to Janet… or to Jayne!…
Because I don’t know any one called Jan,
or Yan, or I Anne… apart from you!”

And she says something…
but I can’t remember what she said…

Anyway, weren’t you going to help me with my song?
Let’s do the chorus first…
I’ll sing the first bit, then you repeat it… okay?
(Singing) Janet or Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
Did she say Janet!
Or did she say Jayne?

(Everybody together) Janet or Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
Did she say Janet!
Or did she say Jayne?

Nicely! Well done, give yourselves a big round of applause!

If you’ve got two girlfriends,
you’re going to need two phones…  
There’s a song in there somewhere… 
but I can’t remember the tune!…
and if you’ve got two phones,
you’re going to need two pockets…
And if you can’t remember your girlfriends names…
you need to write them on the back of the phones…
but don’t get them mixed up!
The trick is to keep one phone for each girl…
but the problem is you’re going to need a third phone, for everybody else.

Now the problem I’ve got is that one of my girls is called Janet
and the other one is called Jayne…
and sometimes I can’t remember which is which!

Hold on… have we got time for a quick verse?…

If you've got
two girls
you're gonna
need two 'phones.
So when they
call you up +
you're all alone -
and all they want
to do is moan -
you just put
'phone to 'phone
and let them…
moan + moan
and moan!

Believe me… it gets worse!…

I keep Janet’s phone in my left hand pocket…
and I keep Jayne’s phone in my right hand pocket.
But sometimes,
the message Jan calling pops up on one of my phones,
and I don’t know if it’s Jan short for Janet…
or whether it’s Jan short for Jayne…
or whether it’s Jan… Yan… or I Anne…

On the back of my phone it says; Vodaphone
I thought that’s funny, because Voda is the word for water in polish.
Imagine if someone asked you what sort of phone
you've got and you said “It’s a water phone!”
(do the squirt impression)…
maybe it’s like those incabloc watches… you can take it swimming with you…

The phone rings and you answer,
“Hello!, I’m in the shower!” you say.
And the person on the other end of the blower says,
 “okay, I’ll ring you back in a bit!”
And you reply “It’s okay, you can talk to me now, I've got a vodaphone!”

It gets worse…

In Poland they say maly voda, which means little water,
but when they say mowe voda they really mean vodka!
The Polish fellow said, “ I've got a mowe vodaphone!”
his mate said “I think he’s been on the vodka!”

I keep a third phone on vibrate in my trouser pocket…
that Lee Evans  has got one in his back pocket…
and when it rings… he goes like this… (Do the Lee Evans impression)

Last time someone rang me,
I was talking to Janet…
or was it Jayne?
And she said “Is that your phone buzzing?
Or are you just pleased to see me?”…

I can’t remember what I said to Janet, when she came… 
I probably called her Jayne!

It’s a terrible thing this short term memory loss…
what was I just saying?…
Oh, yeah… the song,
we all know the chorus now…
don’t we?…
I’ll do the verses…
and you can do the chorus’ with me…

I was strolling down
a country lane
when I saw a girl
so I asked her name
she said Janet!
or was it Jayne?
(chorus, all together)
Janet or Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
did she say Janet!
or did she say Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
did she say Janet!
or did she say Jayne?
(second verse)
The next time I went
down that lovers lane
she was standing
there again…
I said Janet?
and she said Jayne!
(chorus, all together)
Janet or Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
did she say Janet!
or did she say Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
did she say Janet!
or did she say Jayne?
(last verse)
So that was the end
of my would be flame
I simply forgot to
remember her name!
Did she say Janet?
No, she said Jayne!
(chorus, all together)…
but the second half of the chorus is different…
this time it’s a repeat of the end of  the last verse…  
Did she say Janet? No, she said Jayne!
Janet or Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
did she say Janet!
or did she say Jayne?                                                                                                                             Janet or Jayne?
Janet or Jayne?
did she say Janet?
No, she said Jane!

Thank you!…
Give yourselves another BIG, BIG round of applause!!!

Anyway,  I’m no good with phones,
the problem is you need three hands
to answer one phone and a pair of glasses
to figure out which buttons to press,
so my mate said “Why don’t you try the internet?”… 
He said, “You can have one of those social
networking accounts like facebook or my-space
where everybody has a profile picture!”

I said, “That sounds more like it!”
So I joined SpaceFace!
and everyone’s got their own picture,
Janet’s got a helmet on hers…
with a clear visor and a big pair of
red Australian glasses and loads of lipstick!
She’s easy… to remember.
Jayne’s got a tinted visor on her helmet,
so I can’t really see what she looks like…
but I know it’s her… by the picture!

I've got an inside out corn-flake box on my head…
with a square cut out at the front…
so you can see who I am…
but I had my welding glasses on,
on the day they took the photo…
So, you can’t really see me…
but I know who I am…
at least I think I do!

Underneath my face, on the chin bit,
there’s some writing that always baffles me.
It says CKWA which is an anagram of Wack!
I couldn't figure it out for a bit,
and then I remembered that I’d written
BACKWARDS forwards in wax crayon
on the bottom of the cardboard cut-out
before I made it into a helmet for Space Face
and CKWA are pretty much the middle letters of
backwards but the whole word was too long for the picture…
at least I think that’s what happened!

Anyway, I went back to the doctors,
and he sent me to see a specialist…
I said to the specialist,
“Is there something wrong with my brain doctor?”
And he said “No, there’s nothing wrong with your brain doctor!”
I said “Thank god for that!
I thought you were going to do an operation, for a minute!”
He said “Sit down, I’m the brain sturgeon,”
“Only joking, that’s too fishy!”…

He said “Sit down, I’m the brain surgeon, (sorry about that)
there’s nothing wrong with me…
but you’re going to need an operation sooner or later!”…
if you don’t want to lose your memory completely!”

He had a Black and Decker drill on his desk
and a box of stainless steel drill-bits…
and a club hammer and a very sharply pointed chisel
and a Stanley knife.

I took one look at his instruments, and I said
“Is there any alternative?”
And he shook his head vigorously, and said “No!”
I said  “Will I need the full operation, Doctor?”
He said “No, we won’t need to shave your head!…”

Okay, what they do is…
and I saw this on the telly, so it must be true!…
what they do is they drill a little hole in the bottom of your head…
then they poke the pointy chisel in the hole…
and give it a few whacks with the club hammer…
and your whole skull splits in half…
it’s still connected to your face and your skin…
they just twiddle it about… making Space Face

I’ll tell you who had it done, that Russian fellow,
Gorbachev! Did you see that mark on his head?… 
It’s where they cracked it open!…
but when they drill the hole,
they keep all the bits of skull dust…
and they mix a bit of glue with it…
to stick you back together again…
So, I asked the doctor if I’d be able to remember
things better after the operation.
And do you know what he said? (shaking my head)
No neither do I! I can’t remember a bloody thing!
Did I have the operation? I don’t know, I can’t remember!

But what I do remember is what my pet robot said,
he said: (In a robotic voice)
Scared afraid of Black and Decker doctors. 
Doctors chasing me with knives and hammers. 
Hammers hitting chisels into my skull. 
Skull thuggery! that’s what those doctors do.  
Do they have to tell you that you might die. 
Die if you have the op - die if you don’t! 
Don’t they know that I’m scared stiff already. 
All ready to have your operation? 
Operation knives are sterilized phew! 
Phew, there’s no turning back they’re going through. 
Through my head to improve my brain, remove...   
Remove my brain? they've got to find it first! 
First thing I thought when they told me of this. 
This is the worst thing DIY I’m scared.

That’s what my pet robot said!…

I came in a taxi tonight, it was ten quid, 
and I only live across the road.
So I said, "I've only got a fiver!"
The taxi driver said, "Do you want to phone a friend?"
I said, "Yes please!"
But my phone wouldn't work.
He said "What sort of phone is it?"
I said, "It's a Nokia!" 
"No it won't work!" he said, "this is a Korean car! No Kia!
Do you want to ask the audience?"
I said "Yeah! and that's why I'm here tonight, 
I haven't got any jokes to tell you, I just need a deep sea
diver to pay Sam Sung outside!"


Clink the link to Script - #1

Friday, January 25, 2013

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

Thursday, January 17, 2013



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.