19 September 2009

at the dockside

we go to meet

the losing side

nowhere to hide

the river's fleet


time has in tow

all our desire

so tell the choir

how much you know


out from the port

no ship departs

the while our hearts

each hope distorts


choices are made

visions described

policemen bribed

that is the trade


so when we learn

just how to speak

in the antique

manner you yearn


to see us grasp

all of your pride

held well inside

falls from your grasp


what is said true

within these walls

nobody calls

honest or new


nothing but old

rumours and lies

that we despise

pass here for gold

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