Northern England

grey rain and puddles that reflect the moonlight, oh what a gritty northern sight, shattered windows and shards of glass, and the only lass you'll ever need, reaps the seed you sew, the slow music carried in the wind, the violence that drowns us out as we twist and sing,

against a red brick wall, we stand, I stall, and a lingering kiss races in, welcome to my world of sin, from here we do nothing but win,

obsolete reasons, half-way through life with no lover, and a thousand treasons.

sleep tight gazing at the ripples of the underbelly of the clouds that blanket your social norm. x