Couldn’t afford the crack of dawn, a spliff in its place.
Inside these walls I present to you
Lost hope posessions
In amongst those, a book
a recipie -
For which, unknown.
A dash of hope,
Desire, love and a restless nights wonder.
Years spent longing
A spoonful of jealousy
Don’t weigh out the heartbreak
Nostalga thrown in carelessly.
It never turns out
Quite as softly as it should
You can blame the oven - But your hands created, picked up and messed around.
Like a loaf that couldn’t quite rise,
We were half way there.
My father used to tell me religiously
‘You can do anything, if you put your mind to it’
All I wanted was you, of that I can’t take my mind off.