Rosa Two

Who hasn't thought, alone and perplexed, worrying about what we’ve bought, over a drink of wine, the burdens of text, Birthdays, parties, Valentines, other stuff we’ve caught, from mouths of the vexed, ask what’s the score, with men Online, who will pop up next, demanding our time, generally divorced, wearing a vest, drunk and overwrought, it's me at the shopping mall, staring at the best, will anyone give a call, firmly click their jaws, these resurrections tests, supposed to be joyous, are just like the rest.

Rosa

She has such a giving way, she brings me Bollinger, on Christmas Day, what can we do alone, without repentance, in circumstances of our own, wine pours down my face, it’s like a Christening, she cuts the Angel cake, are we here or gone, she hasn't got a pot to piss in, we laugh at the unknown, choose to live or waste, call our lives as witness, poured upon to pray, she stumbles down the road, like a totem off the sea, those trips on our bones, are my greatest days, when not scared shitless, gives the ease to celebrate, a lovely spirit.

Alex Two

Do you remember the sea, the swell and the spray, our dance at Thebes, now the kids have flown, gone away, they look after their own, we dance on the beach, at the end of the day, all our loving at Crosby, every part of our home, suddenly drained, now we're alone, you grab my sleeve, pull me to the Bay, my troubles ease, by the wind brown estuary, I hold your face, think like Fernandghetti; catch horizons like these, you wonder why I pray, buy me chips and peas strip away Cocaine.

Alex

Your house beyond the dunes, roses rise beneath the sky, death won’t bring you ruin, all chefs die intestate, fashioned dishes may lie, it’s better than the prostrate, even God is not immune, he takes each love aside, won't be duped, fire burns the oven grate, don't tell me how you cried, smoke rises from the hot plate, it isn't me but you, dying in the tide, don't you know you fool, with all your shades of blue, you left me hanging out to dry, all the lovers too, they come to say how are you, pillowed troubles slight, a laughing kitchen crew, debts gone from their eyes.

Dave Two

In any cafe', when you figure it, there's always the odd flake, where the kitchen shakes, chefs boiling in fits, forget about the wage, they’re all on the make, with their new gadgets, that go in this place, my back’s in outer space, no hands can fit, around the pain, it spins before my face, like a launderette, puts me out the game, hanging on a door frame, music from a playlist, holds me up this way, it'd be a cheek to say, love doesn’t exist, when my wife and my mate, act like they’ve hit.

Dave

By the garden door, of Saint Phillip Neri, he sees the poor, cross Catherine Street, in their eyes need, linen washed clean, the soul of lost hordes, some hold a weed, they laugh as they walk, who needs a divvy, when food is cheap, the beggar's party, all of them taught, you need no inquiry, when the truth is caught, then buried, and each part of thought, has been curried, to a perfect nought, that’s to identify, between now and what's sought, the moon and the sea ?

Mona Three

Sometimes with this place, you just don't know, if you’re going to make it, the same with those, who forget to show, don't understand where they go, just when you pray, give me a blow, another one turns up late, how they break your bones, when they know, you can’t get out alone, really need a mate, sunlit hills come with stones, I'll have to wait, this café trade is slow, red wine’s not to waste, a crowded bar would atone, it’s a happy day, listening to a jazz solo, a cigarette to taste, an atmosphere of home