This paper is the same as that one
& it's identical to this
Fear mongering
Lying bastards
Thinking running the world
Would be
A piece of piss
I only do the sudokos
and the crosswords
If i'm feeling brave
Black & white newspapers
full of racism & full of hate
It smells like christmas dinner
But It's not due for a week
wetherspoons cashing in
yet when they do
it's bleak
There's never any flavour
& The meat is so fucking dry
but for a pub i applaud
because at least you gave it a try
you get what you pay for
& that i already know
But why is my tesco meal deal nicer?
Forgive me if I'm slow
A sandwhich in a box
at the local supermarket
this is a serious discussion
no I'm not being sarcastic
Ham & cheese sarnie
more moist than a pub roast
Unless it's a toby carvery
Which I'll always love
The most
A table for two
But it's not a date
2 overly excited nerds
sat opposite having a debate
one got so excited
he almost knocked over
his pint
But his mate is matching the energy
They take a break
Sipping at the drinks
But no food or plates
for their conversation
is more important
They don't care if they're home late
If you're wanting to know what they're discussing
I've just heard something escape
'I will become King'
Then the other continues his debate...
Tables full
every one
on a wednesday
a week before christmas
where do they find the cash?
Don't come for me
I'm not after backlash
I simply came to the pub
with a notebook and a pen
& once perfected
maybe perform them
I don't understand why people
have crosses tattooed
on their skin
or christianity & religion
or whatever they believe in
this man has a cross
beneath
his left ear
& socks & sliders
also
the fashion god
he must fear
is it a statement
being there
so close to your face
or is it a warning
Because I've not said grace
Tattooed Flowers stabbed
onto the back of a
shaved head
Sat
with a face of pure disgust
I wonder why he chose flowers
to be displayed so bold
I need to know
I must
But for some reason
He seems like a man
I'd trust
Familiar faces
Looking up at me
From the other side of the room
Egging on a conversation
acknowledgement
Anything
But I look down
Headphones on
Music at volume zero
Will they get the message?
Or should I become a social hero?
Dressed in a cape and pink underpants
Pulled over the top of my clothes
I'm just not really sociable
& don't turn up your nose
I'd rater write about strangers lives
But living in a small town means
That someone will recognise.
I pick up my pen
& scan across the room
These peple look familiar
Yet I don't know who is who
I've seen them in wetherspoons
Asda
& Greggs
But what they do for a living
Well I wouldn't have a clue
I know their coffee order
& what time they go for a swim
I guess It's the perks of working here
Locally in Rushden
I see them at their worst
I see them a their best
I notice the little things
& the people who seem of interest
I know their dogs names
And that their sister has been a bit sad
They fill the silence
Oversharing
Oh how they blab
I know that it's their sons birthday
& they've picked him up a little treat
You'd be suprised what strangers say
When you first start talking and meet
Comfortable in the shared space
A flutter of excitement
Most people our age
Are hungover
But we're driving to a garden centre
I sip at a coffee
& he plays with the radio
Flicking between 5 buttons
But only 2 stations play
Some with more crackles & static
Making small talk...
Nothing really meaning anything
When you live together
You're already caught up
But those quiet sunday drives
are something that I love
& I can't get enough of....