Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Story 9 - Our Generation

When they wake up in the morning
And stare through faded tears
They take turns in the bathroom
And count away the years

They are silent over breakfast
‘Cause it’s all been said before
They may chat over coffee
Let the TV chat some more

You know it’s all the same to him
And it’s all the same to her

And now the birds are singing
He sneaks a fag at bedtime
They grow their pleasure in the garden
She’s seen escaping with some wine

And her friends over the phone-line
And his life is on the stairs
Grow their pleasure in the garden
And count away the years

And the pictures on the wall
Remind him of the old times
And the entries in her diary
Remind her of his better lines


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