the sickness

when the sickness takes hold

bites to the bone

there was nothing I would not do

to keep you close

nights wondering where you were

but knowing deep down

& it don’t help to know

right now I was the clown

I’d sworn never to be

seeing others torn into two

wanting to keep on this half life

half love forever chained

to somebody who doesn’t love you

in the way they swore to be

& it don’t help to know

you know how this will end

being foolish is little different

from being the fool

who doesn’t know what is coming

tomorrow the next bend

this sickness will drive you to

until waiting was done

I was waiting

hand held out

to pull you through

and I waited

until waiting was done

& you called out

if only I’d waited

just a while longer

you would’ve come through

but a fool gets tired

standing there like a mule

mute strong patience long

I was waiting

hand held out

wondering out loud

just where were you?

& you were waiting

testing

for how long

I’d hold out

& I’m not sure now

which of us

was the more stupid

revelations

the fool

learns from their own mistakes

the wise

from the experiences of others

& for too long

I held position one

expecting some kudos

karma

from efforts given

being my own man

though I did learn sometimes

from others

she accused me of lying

levelled the charge of adultery

there stinking at my feet

& I spent time denying

until the thought struck home

she wasn’t asking

she was telling

it was her lies her affairs

she wanted exposed

needed raised

& all I had to do was listen

to what was really being said

these things being easier

to do accuse

than admit

forgetful drinker

the first & only time

I turned up all ready to go

got all the kit stuff we agreed

& he looked at me all strange

what?

we were gonna do…..?

he shakes his musty head

offer some lost winsome grin

oh I’ve forgotten again

please can you forgive?

so now when he’s drinking

I borrow a five or a ten

some rusty tool he’s got hidden

make plans him to come to me

let him be the fool

with memory to lose

Fool on the hill

We have been here

so many times

camping in big tents small tents

now in motorhomes

dealing with death intense

surrounded by children

place empty to ourselves

different nations

& now the man he says

end of the month

it is over I retire

my time to sit in the sun

& I want to be rich

buy the place off’f him

say sit & soak it up old man

let me take a turn at the tractor

cutting the grass

picking up the pieces

for holidaymakers

people on the run

but I’m not

& so cannot

so I sit here on his hill

middle of nowhere

knowing now I cannot return

to sit soak up the sun

rest my feet

on another mans land

 

Sometimes

I don’t much

want to talk about it

prefer to be behind the door

when the thinking kicks into overdrive

switches to kill

throwing memories

things you said

did

reminding you will always be the fool

all those chances could’ve been yours

women & work you threw away

as you hold your head in your hands

turning the music from blues

there ain’t nothing you can do

a man is not easy to change

all you need is a new bar

some easier money

a good night out to spend

& the world will turn your way

once again

the fool believes