Berna

I dream of his class, silken not torn, listening to him gasp, struggling without scorn, broken unsought, I feel reborn, landing in the traps, dancing on thorns, he’s a modern-day iconoclast, what have I caught, riding this storm, a penny for your thoughts, can you say it overlaps, now that he's gone, hidden under Burlap, I fed him corn, he broke the fast, now I’m alone, on the next mountain pass, I'll have him clawed, love cannot crash, short of his shorts.

Robert Four

What it means to fly, within a screaming gale, no use trying to lie, in my bones, I don't need a trial, to find myself alone, studying a time, when all measures fail, and you search for style, can we atone, or do we always fail, when shame drags us home, flip a coin to the sky, talk of finding sail, I always leave this way, drink wine from broken cones, search for desolate mail, throw stones at ghosts, they say it's worse than jail, forsaken all the while, when you hit the trail, brightened by a smile.

Robert Three

A worn-out empty feeling, hot kitchens bad aches, something leaking, she brings me the news, with a doctor’s face, when you know the truth, but also the sea, an artist bright unfazed, for this old has been, looking for something new, a need to get away, she plays me Delta Blues, blows it on the street, all she works and saves, nothing left to seek, I'm still left in perdue, falling like the rain, down broken avenues, it sends me reeling, by St Luke’s place, kills me with her being, these sunny days.

Robert Two

Tell me, tell me why, they treat me so unfair, my lips dissolve their cries, who says to run clear, call for stolen hurt, demand a veil of tears, I command a beautiful sight, candles scent the air, bells ring out the night, my life contains all grief, in yellow-robed nightshirts, fresh from sleep, I walk like a man gone by, through the city desolate, while they search my eyes, will they ring my feet, slash or burn my furs, ask them to entreat, these days without care, they love orators here, in darkness and green light, I'm ready to go first.

Robert

He seeks explosive release, in what he cannot find, nothing seems to please, he won't hear good news, love is just a grind, a cover-up for truth, with the kiss of blasphemy, he doesn't do sublime, or give anyone a treat, why disguise the Blues, or nourish his sweet mind, no one’s there for you, he shakes his keys, when December chimes, work’s no Odyssey, chained to a loving need, for his family’s crimes, he'd rather bleed, forget any sense of ease, of justice place or time, the path to any freedom, another clock to wind.

Fion Three

Nothing left to negotiate, fortify your shoes, seek holy escape, they're only clones, that bring you news, to say you're not alone, reason it’s too late, to heal your broken look, any brigand seeks escape, you're not a rolling stone, all of life is fruit, don’t worry about the rope, if you disturb the waves, why should it bother you, you'll always have your say, separate the stones, seek a distant bayou, you’re not coming home, when Oceans are in play, survive while lovers mew, step closer to the flame, nothing left to rue

Fion Two

Sweet talk makes you curl, you say enough, Basta, never just your little girl, silken wraps you've thrown, that always collapse, face moulded like a stone, plates occasionally hurled, nothing holds you fast, makes you torn or care, life is what you own, if you think that crass, consider it gone, you're not perturbed, time has passed, keep that flag furled, dance on brown chairs, make a homeward dash, your face to the air, daddy you can keep or burn, your love on the gas, but turn the flame down, make it last.