by John Smallshaw
Back down in the South West
It's not the place that I know best
But that's me.
Always on danger watch
Me and a fifth of scotch.
I drink and I think I can fly
spit in the eye of authority
but they always capture me
And I am back in the cell
screaming blue murder
Do I never learn
Will my world never turn on its axis?
I've had enough practise
where is the test?
It's obviously not here or down in the South West.
When I move it's a pain but I'll move once again
settle down, wait for the rain
and the storm which will surely come.
What was once a bit of fun
blocked out my sun and hid my day
If I could find another way
I'm sure I could,
Cut out the drink and stop for good.
But I get lost in twists and turns and the churning of my guts.
If only buts were not so much a way of life
I could be such a model guy.
Until then I'll wonder why, and wonder why I cannot fly
I think I need another drink of danger watch.
The fifth is all I need
The fifth becomes my feed
and in the twisting of the deed that's done
the blocking of my sun will come