Chris Three

Windows paint strokes, against the falling rain, shocked again I'm broke, echoes of an empty surfeit, another sad holiday, it’s no news to me, at St Anthony’s stone, loss brings no certainty, when you need a loan, songs of a dismal choice, pose lonely sad trains, that whistle and moan, to beg again, with love gone on plates, or down the Freeway, it marks my bones, shadows of the infirmary, circle my zones, I'm a generous soul, reclaimed from this cafe', and like to joke, when I get paid.

Chris Two

When I say 'screw you', It makes my troubles light, there's so much more to do, do all chefs die intestate, however much they lie, throwing venom at the plates, explosive screams at menus, they face some terrible high, a frightened kitchen crew, tear around this place, don't tell me how to cry, anchors bind my feet, someone has the truth, debts roll from my eyes, no longer am I duped, wouldn't it be great, to feel a love inside, instead of all this rage, a place beyond the dunes, lying near the tide, will it bear me fruit , or hang me out to dry?

Dave Three

Cocaine is our lady, we accept her burnt cheer, it brings us the cradle, turns a city to stone, down avenues so clear, we wear different bones, love is our trade, we handle it without fear, like fried halloumi these days, long journey's to the coast, nothing’s too dear, what we crave most, pick up the shame, we just need the gear, for all of our forays, never willed or on show, no need for tears, face nightmares unknown, anyone who says, there’s no need for tears, I’ll show them what’s rage, in these turbulent years.

Chris

The year Lady passed away, I couldn't get past the blues, was sunken day by day, I hated to be alone, or see anyone new, on the street or Metro, but you were an angel, I haven't got a clue, how to deal with rage, you arranged the loans, introduced me to the crew, put jelly on my bones, before this game, I only thought of you, and what you created, when you started to waste, useless cooking food, it has a different taste, your tune still resonates, in all that I do, even in this digital age God bless the loving fool.

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.