That Boy

As I go bare foot across the beach,
I see a grain of sand.
A man comes forth as if to teach,
And quickly grabs my hand.
...

It’s nineteen thirty three.
Some lads, a gang of three,
Walking to the office
To buy their liberty.
...

I’m walking through this famous park,
There is no sound or din.
I’m walking through this famous park,
The beauty takes me in.
...

I often wonder about my house,
About floorboards, the stair case and mum’s hot scouse.
I often wonder about the world,
About flowers, trees and petals that curl.
...

I look out my window,
My eye duth meet,
The neatly filed houses of Glover Street.
Looking further I see the shell,
...

There was a young fellow called jack,
We don’t really know his real name.
When he was young he joined a pack,
And that’s how he came to fame.
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I am a bird, flying over trees.
I am a flock of Geese.
I am a tree, dancing in the breeze.
I am a hippy who just wants peace.
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Twenty years have passed and gone,
The pain you see, still caries on.
The pain that you have when you lose to the dead,
Still lingers and kills you, inside, in your head.
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In my house, I can see,
Pictures of my sister and me.
I walk into my hall, and I can see,
The kitchen were we should have tea.
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'Scouse' is like 'roast dinner's' little brother
If it goes wrong, just cook another,
The left overs from a roast dinner,
The people in liverpool, their pockets got thinner.
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Some people look out to the mountains,
Down the valleys and up the streams.
The rain falls like water from fountains,
And sits on the ground whilst it gleams.
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In a wooden chest, on a wooden floor,
In a wooden room with a wooden door,
In the wooden chest, there’s a wooden drawer,
With many strange folders, in fact there are four.
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Beyond the sleeping lake.
Beyond the silent bee.
Beyond the weeping rake.
Beyond the tiny tree.
...

To myself, I have a promise to keep,
as my sister and mother drift off to sleep.
I stay awake, lying in my bed,
with tired eyes and tired head.
...

A man ran into his house
And said to his wife and kin.
'To the shelter we must go my loves
Or the bombs will crush us in'
...