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FROM GERM TO GEM Peter Blegvad and Andy Partridge |
[THIS SPACE INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK] |
From germ to gem
the story grew,
from gem to germ
the hours flew.
No one wearied of the drone
as the teller rambled on
and on and on and on and on.
From dawn to dusk,
from dusk to dawn.
Weeks went by, then months, then years
when we were dead between the ears.
I've been in the Malvern Hills,
I've been reading 'Daffodils'.
Now William Wordsworth's yellow head
(equine head)
nods upon my neck instead.
I cut my finger to the bone
I heard a distant telephone
I'll take the call from far away
I know everything I'll say.
'I'm fine. Of course. Are you OK?'
I'll give up drink
I'll give up dope
I'll say I see a ray of hope.
I'll ask my doctor how she'd deem
my chances now that I am clean.
"Will I live longer?"
"Sure" she'll beam
"but not as long as it will seem."
Dreet, ink and me berry.
I caught her drift and took her cherry.
That's how happy endings start.
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9 January 2016 / Feedback