Nick Long

On seafront carousels, to latest trendy spells, that smell of cockleshells with big grey clouds collecting rain that never fell, for summer's nights soon start calling the young, restless, wild are forming, on streets in herds they search for tender driven chancers, who hold keys to already known answers, on made up poisons, they confess hardship fallings, not knowing where there going, excited by last bell glass throwers, jimmy runs, stands on a wall, holds fist to the sky, "my friends, we will grow old together, stand by each other and moan together, for lifes not fair and at times we will not stand each other, but always hold on to hope and hope will never let you down, its grip so tight that you can't lose sight, and although hard don't succumb to another ways thinking, for we pose young into the break of the dawn, walk the branches that lead to our fate, knowing although together we became on our own, give me ten ten tales, then i wanna go home.............."