One Oh Seven

Is it love of rain, or a blown out tyre, that you lean against, shuffling in the gloom, listening to the criers, no one jumps for you, if its a problem look away, they pester you for hire, it's never easy or brave, to do what you do, your eyes seek some tide, it is never blue, an offering to the saved, like an old fish wire, is this what you gave, whispering for someone's due, here's my coat to lie in, my song rings true, it's not defiled by drains, nor the tongue of a liar, the miracle I crave, lies waiting for the pyre.