Author: Zoolon

HUNTING ALONE

HUNTING ALONE It’s only the endIt’s where you descendWhen you can’t be bothered to speakIt’s a lazy old streetAnd the people you meetAre either just boring or freak ‘What made you this way?’That’s all they can sayBut you don’t want to hear anymoreYou’re out on your ownTimed out and aloneAnd you’re eyes; they just stare

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WEARING GOLD LEAF

WEARING GOLD LEAF I played the guitarYou held the gunYou answered the questionsI answered none Some days you played coolCrowds you’d just hateYou smiled in the mirrorThanking good fortune’s fate Counting your blessingsWearing gold leafFrom a roof top terraceYou fired your gun; wounded the chief Last time I saw youYou’d swapped ammo for goldI still

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SHADOWS ON THE SEA

There’s a village not far from me called Capel-le-Ferne. Its name derives from the phrase ‘Chapel in the Ferns’. Proud locals often call it ‘The Village in the Clouds’. The rest of us call it ‘Capel-Le-Fog’ because it’s high up and every so often you can’t see a single thing there when the clouds stop

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DON’T HATE THE PLAYER, HATE THE GAME

A local cemetery I never knew existed DON’T HATE THE PLAYER, HATE THE GAME I liked you so much betterWhen your story was untoldNow you go backward looking forwardBelieving all that glitters is really gold You keep your demons in a suitcaseAn arrow in your heartYou’re crying out for plan BBut the game has yet

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NUMBER 85

Yesterday at the farm down the road I had a chat with Number 85. We got on OK but our conversation was a one-sided affair. Because of that I thought I’d ask the lamb a few easy questions. It went like this. “What would you call a long rigid piece of metal?” The lamb answered,

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AN EMPTY HALL

This spoof mag cover from about ten years ago was found in a pile of old stuff. I’d almost forgotten it, and my long hair and glasses back then when making music was just that – making music. AN EMPTY HALL I never saw the crossroads on last year’s mapShould I take the left turn

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HEARTBEAT’S SILHOUETTE

At last the sun came out and so did I. Most people dis Dover for dumb reasons. I don’t. Aside the fact that we have White Cliffs plus a magnificent Norman Castle to the east, the harbour overlooking France to the south, more cliffs to the west and forests to the north, Dover has the

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DESTINY COMES WITH A CURSE

The last time I ever heard your voiceYou were singing, crystal clearMaking up for lost timeStill begging to disappear You never wanted fame, I knowYet destiny comes with a curseDrags you up then lets you downI don’t know what’s worseThan being fed a big lieOne that you believeJust to find out laterYou’ve nothing to achieveExcept

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GINNY

GINNY It wasn’t the dragonIt wasn’t MerlinIt wasn’t the jesterNor his old tambourine It wasn’t the French knightThey called LancelotNor evil Morgan le FayAnd the fall of Camelot Dark Age’s disastersRound table no moreLe Morte d’ArthurLady of the Lake came ashoreShe took care of ExcaliburKept it safe under waterAway from the warsAway from the slaughter

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THE ECHOES OF DISTANT VOICES

Now the ground is neither a sticky mud bath nor a slippery ice rink accident waiting to happen I went up to the forest on Sunday. Amazing how many trees had fallen down over winter. It’s peaceful up there. WISHFUL THINKING The chatter of the ghostsA haunting silhouetteThe echoes of distant voicesAn orchestral violin quartet

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