Valentine In The Snow

I'm lying on the ground in the snow, and the snow is falling.

I fell from a height, I don't know if anything is broken.

I'd been to the pub and had a couple of pints of Guinness, I just exchanged the usual pleasantries, but don't have any friends now, having been dropped by every social circle, the darts and dominoes teams, and the music club. My band let me go because one of their bosses decided he wanted to join and would let them rehearse in one of his warehouses.

It does hurt to see yourself replaced by a technical inferior because they have money.

So I am the archetypal Billy No Mates.

I left the pub, and put my blu-tooth headphones on, though listening to Roger Waters was probably not a good choice, given the mood that I was in.

Crossing the railway bridge on the way home I looked over the edge, as the snow was falling, and then somehow I was falling. Twenty feet I fell, I hit the snow-covered hard ground, luckily I missed the railway track.

My whole body felt as if I had been beaten with clubs, that was what happened to St Valentine before they decapitated him.

So I am lying here, unable to move, getting colder as the snow falls, burying me under its white sheet. "Knocking On Heaven's Door" by Roger Waters is now playing on my headphones.

No one knows I'm here, maybe I am "Knocking On Heaven's Door"