Stranded
The nights get forgotten and the mornings get remembered
Pupils of this town stranded
Leaving me and my friend dab handed
At getting smashed
I tag along
In the bag later on
Leaving my life
Feeling trashed
Like trash, taken out
And most got out
Especially those of value
One of those who didnt, if not the only one, sits doing coke at 2am on a bench in a club overlooking Bognor bay
14hrs drinking, no one anything to say
A young black gay guy
Tells me what he’d do to me if I’d let him
He walks off to the toilet
I drink his beer
Small bags, everyones found a number for fifty notes
Im lucky people love me
“I’ll sort you out Mark”
But its mucky, the way in which they love me
I forget tomorrow
Now will last forever
What a poor mans perogative
And a shitty shitty small town endeavour
But I recognise, I see it
The bigger picture
Ive learnt that means something
I’ll never be still on that
Not with this iron will
I’ll have what I want soon
…and more importantly, who I want