Jan

When donkeys start to bray, we sit by the fire, you turn to me and say, its a lonely path alone hung by a wire, crossing the sea like Homer, we can't take a train, never mind the time,. just sit here and wait, this is our home, not all a sweet desire, but still no rolling stone, watch all the silly games, tell which gun's for hire, explosions getting paid, our horizon's broken, no sail shines too bright, love's our little token, so far we remain OK, who needs insight, blankets aren't for slaves, take our own sleepovers, who cares about rights, a silent tombola, rescues our days.