Lionmouth Door Knocker
At any given moment in the middle of a city
There's a million epiphanies occurring
And the blurring of the
World beyond the curtain
And the world within the person
There's a quiver in the litter
In the alleyway, he's singing
People meet by chance
Fall in love, drift apart again
Underaged drinkers walk the park
And watch the dark descend
The workers watch the clocks
Fiddle with their Parker pens
While the grandmothers
Haggle with the market men
Here, where the kids play and
Laugh until they fall apart
As kiss chase and dancing ‘til
It’s mistakes and darkened rooms
Too fast, too soon too slow, too long
Move around all day but we can't move on
Is anybody else awake?
Will it ever be day again?
Is anybody else awake?
Will it ever be day again?
Overflowing plant pots fence posts
Decorated door numbers
Motor black beneath a tarp beaten up Punto
Goal posts, painted on that green garage door
There's a rainbow on that wheelie bin
There's stickers in that window
Smart flats, rough flats
Can't-get-enough-cat flats you know
Seventeen cat flats rich flats, broke flats
New flats, old flats luxury bespoke flats
And 'this has got to be a joke' flats
Pensioners, toddlers
Immigrants and Englishmen
Families of six kids single business woman
Look, everybody’s here trying to make
Or scrape a living
A fox freezes on the alley
Wall and stands still sniffing
Bare branches sway in the front garden
The lionmouth door knocker flaps
In the breeze
Street lights glint on the ‘beware
Of the dog' signs
The beer cans and crisp packets
Dance with the dead leaves it’s 04: 18 AM
At this very moment, on this very street
Seven different people in
Seven different flats
Are wide awake, they can’t sleep
Now, of all these people, in all these houses
Only these seven are awake
And they shiver in the middle of the night
Counting their sheepish mistakes
Is anybody else awake?
Will it ever be day again?
Is anybody else awake?
Will it ever be day again?
We start on the corner
With our backs against the wall
Next to the old phone box
Where the tramp leaves his bedding
The road runs ahead of you
Houses and flats either side, walk down
Go past the yard with the caravans
There, behind the hedges