Hobo

I met a girl Who is a butterfly With a dance for a walk And a laugh for a why

“The final war for the coming of the light is now here Caroline, it has started silently inside the inner consciousness of all mankind, you have just been waiting like so many others."

Arthur was tired. Between the greyness of the November sky and the rough dirty brown surf of the North Sea he stood alone contemplating the unfairness of what life had become.

Bill was a charmer, well he thought he was at least. There was no way he could be without someone to talk to for less than an hour, to him it was torture.

Value Coca cola and large tattoos The bag is heavy filled with all sorts That are not made of liquorice

Stomachs are empty from indulgence You have not looked within like I have And seen such discernment

Tell me that you see the same things Stop me in the street and confront me I will laugh at your angry words And take comfort in any blows you deal out

Success is measured by the amount of times You consistently get back up after failure It is not an exterior collective It is not a fashion or a trend

I sat at a table enjoying myself picking out various ships and boats that dotted the English Channel when I was most rudely interrupted by a tap on my shoulder.

It went quickly Faster with each introspective thought The nineties

As the unseen desert flew past us I dreamed of mysterious destinations that awaited in the biblical barrenness of the Sinai.

There is a similair sign of selfishness That streaks through many smiles...