Xena

Here's the question, why on the communal phone, do you only whisper, behind a crushed mesh serenade, swallow awkward notes, in crinkled paper shades, any reason you’re like this, these never imagined sweet tones, should come to this, rain dances on the parade, flush with the marked zones, colours of barred gates, you’re lonely that’s the jist, is that what love is for, smoke illicit sisters’ cigarettes, numb away the pain, say you've been honed, a lovers' voice tolls again, you smoke on your own.

Whitney

Round a futile yard, we try to hide our fears, ships gone on the rocks, light a path to Mars, satellites hang in the atmosphere, by multitudinous stars, these miracles of endless parts, don’t shift our tears, shaken answers for a start, no need to look far, everything we know is here, hell heaped on a handcart, junk is for no marks, that picture is clear, sentence pronounced by some old nark, how it broke our hearts, to see such loss smeared, like sunshine on prison bars, your time coming near.

Veronica

Who wants to be free, my lover reaches, her hand where I can see, nothing between her and sun, the breeze lazy on the sea, don't you want some fun, love strays over this beach,, she says brightly, her toenails painted peach, skin all toned and scrubbed, she thinks she's a celebrity,. light as a biscuit crumb, not given to any jealousy, if by reason of speech, she'll stand no scrutiny, says marriage's a tin drum, somehow glistens with certainty, knows nothing is ever done, If I speak I’ll scream..

Unity

There's just one tune, alone by the beach, I want to play to you, if there’s others you know, memories other fools leave, do they echo like pheromones, your mud caked shoes, lemon blue by the sea, glisten in a glorious hue, can you feel in your bones, like Davy Jones’s feet, the need to atone, you laugh at this news, in your voice a creak, marine gardens hove in view, men are permanently loath, to accept your testimony, when you say it’s over, coins jingle in payphones, others only beseech, between distance and home, they’re history.

Tracylee

If there’s more to say, your ma’s no harm, welcomes me anyway, trees and yellow roads, fresh linen and thorns, we enact the County code, it’s harvest time and hay, I'm lucky to be born, when a life is saved, you move such big loads, down fields of corn, fresh as I’ve seen anyone, your mother gyrates, within a gathering storm, understands your greatness, brings me wine and Coke, a summertime sojourn, we dance alone, on fine blue mornings.

Selma

The end of lovely days, honour her great freedom, a scimitar hand of fate, for the cafe's and diners, who take their nights ease, under yellow electric lights, not your village maze, these hardened streets, caught between wreaths of shame, Our lady bides her time, she knows these sweet seasons, eves with a little wine, where debts get paid, beneath cooling trees, blue air in cigar subways, no matter what they say nothing will release, love for that other place, why she crossed the sea.

Rhianna

The love you blew away, by troubles on the line, is now absolved delayed, when seasons turn pink, don’t keep emotions reined, or seek a calendar to forgive, stick with certain phrases, that stand the test of time, celebrate a life at bay, difficult questions make you think, you’ve bathed in lime, drunk at the kitchen sink, you dance the holy grail, as problems rise, dancing is not to blame, cafe's swell with drink, fancy waiters may opine, laugh the way you blink, dazzled in your crystalline.