Terminus

Intro verse 1 Camped out on a lower slope, dog tired at the toposcope Hot soup in the aftermath, salad days in many ways. Then time creeps up unseen And it puts me back at the front of the bus, Hands I once held no longer there, Grey falls on the green As I try’n get used to me and not us Where I’m going I’m not sure that I care. verse 2 Still thought I could play out wide, felt sure I could stay onside But stiff limbs and a shin which looks like Inter’s end on derby day says Time’s crept up unseen And it’s stuck me back at the front of the bus, Bound who knows where, free of charge The situation’s lean Though it could be worse so I don’t make a fuss Still evading capture, still at large. Break Somebody’s mumbling Galatians Somewhere a rope print fleece needs 90 degrees Pushchair related confrontations Pastoral conceits, Italian fancies, comic glees. verse 3 No stroll of a summer’s eve, neck brace and a shower sleeve Hot soup in the afterlife, got my fingers crossed because Old Father Time’s a lie And he’s sat by me at the front of the bus. Here I am as there I was before Things I hold dear Held in place by means of a surgical truss Sorry, not in service any more.