i met my old lover
in a club last week
she seemed so glad to see me
i just ran
and i promised that i'd ring her
but i can't pick up the phone
too desperate, sad and alone
now London sings
a call to bear troubles
in the name of a future
half-glimpsed in a bubble
of hope and hard drugs
and of property prices
of discipline turned
to destructive devices
she was the only one
who never lied
and when i left her
something died
i can't remember
what it was
my fault. my bad.
i know. my loss.
Sing The Sun by Wayne Myers