Treasure Island

Mark Heathcote

(22/03/66 / Manchester)

Ashtray Blues


I have those ashtray blues
Not wanting to walk
Another day in these shoes
Singing these butt end songs

It’s never easy enough for us
But still they contain
Some essence of what
Angers you and me

Our fag end pages are rolled up tight
Like red roses, I guess…
Oh our intoxication’s are never fed
And even, less…
When there filtered
With; nothing more to give…

But who can give it up
Give it up for dead…
When they come in packets
In packets with no change
After twenty years or more…

Oh so I’m still stealing in
That last deep breath
Where my heart still lingers like a dove
With its queer; little song…

But still a self-gratification
Sucks back; asking for one last one.

It’s never easy enough for us
But still they contain
Some essence of what
Angers you and me

Our fag end pages are rolled up tight
Like red roses, I guess…
Oh our intoxication’s are never fed
And even, less…
When there filtered
With; nothing more to give…

Submitted: Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, April 17, 2013

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