Musings of a Lost Generation

I’d like to wait alone in the pub

Amongst the noxious clouds of sinking sorrows

And evils hidden in a soft venom

To welcome what does not come me

I’d like to stand against a drizzling dawn

And sing myself inhuman to gods and faeries

We’d applaud strengths and hush shortcomings

And cry happy tears of silk and spice

I’d like to dream of dreams true and termed

In boxes labeled for ‘use tomorrow’

And shame the world for its sluggish running

Whilst I treadmill my way through void daylight

Now we’d like to wait alone in pubs

Amongst the noxious clouds of sinking sorrows

Thinking we don’t belong, yes, that we were caused

Still sporting a tightly zipped smile on a drowsy face