North Wales 1971
Still alive at the end of the week?
Just feelings, reelings, rakings of nerves.
Touch me now and now the last touch.
Lovers like tramlines into eternity.
Just feelings, gropings, graspings of limbs.
Mournful eye and mourning mouth
Standing sad at the bus-stop lay-by.
Stand by her side by side,
But will she come in the end? Depends.
Still around at the end of the night?
Just opening, glimpsing, taking the view
Of the last tram heading to eternity
To pick up the lovers.
