Yara

He has such giving ways, brings me Bollinger, on Christmas Day, what can we do alone, without relinqhuishing, circumstances of our own, wine pours down my face, it’s like a Christening, he cuts the Angel cake, are we here or gone, he hasn't got a pot to piss in, we laugh at the unknown, choose to live or chase, summon our lives as witness, called upon to pray, we stumble down the road, rattle chains from the sea, taste to test our resolve, my greatest days, come when not scared witless, huge hours to celebrate, our restless spirits.