Youth

When you told me it was over
it had only just begun
the clock had ceased its ticking
and we still felt very young

Those everlasting children
in 1942
were taken from their villages
and nothing they could do

While concrete jungle architects
constructed city spaces
we thought we were invincible
in a middle Earth oasis

But history snatched our shoes away
and filled our hearts with fear
so soon our safety set upon
and dragged us out of there.

And now our broken spirits
seek an everlasting home
where innocence is not a crime
and we live (once more) as one.

I Will Rock You.

You read me a story about a strange clockwork bird, and I flew away to dance with aurora borealis.

We are sheltering in our dreams, spending time with animals and gentle folk who move gracefully.

The dream is punctuated by broken glass and the threat of knives, but I really can’t go there right now.

She is frightened by his humour and clearly more at home when the date is reviewed on national tv.

Even now, you are searching for meaning, and I can remember how dark it was outside that train.