'Those were the days my friend, we thought they'd never end,
we'd sing and dance forever and a day . . . . . . . . . . '
I was there, you were there, with souls laid bare,
talk about 'invisible strings,' the way we used to care.
So many things in 'inverted commas,' allcomers,
that reminds me of ripples, inverted nipples,
dated images, how different were the savages,
strange exotic aromas, dark alleys and back passages.
Memories of Birmingham, not Alabama, where
more than half the population are immigrants,
the home of Duran Duran and The Moody Blues,
if you don't move on, then you win and I lose.
I have to go, pack up, walk out of the door,
'cos I love you but I just can't take anymore.'