Titel
Leaving Town: Chasing dreams that run away like cats down alleys after midnight
Forfatter
Mark Berry
Beskrivelse
A collection of poems inspired by a time of uncertainty, purpose, youth and question.
These poems were mostly written in 1989 while living in Oxford. A very small number of them were done in 1990, just as I moved to London. I had been through a difficult couple of years, but life was starting to look up again. I was on the dole, waiting to become a rock star. London seemed like the right choice, and I was done trying to make Oxford work out for me.
Hazy future
I'm not sure that I know anymore,
just what’s fair, what's right at all.
There's a long way to go on this open road,
at the mercy of all the world may throw.
I'm not sure that I feel anymore.
When my home is gone in misty stories,
my body is broken by men I don't know.
Sometimes I feel like a puppet, in a loser’s show.
I'm not sure of what I do anymore,
though I've been avoiding it for so long.
The reason’s lost, why I go on.
Can I build it back, when I keep getting it wrong?
Hazy future, yeah, it looks like another misty dawn.
I salute you - all those who carry on.
When the bed you lie on, isn't your own,
and the life you live is no longer normal.
These poems were mostly written in 1989 while living in Oxford. A very small number of them were done in 1990, just as I moved to London. I had been through a difficult couple of years, but life was starting to look up again. I was on the dole, waiting to become a rock star. London seemed like the right choice, and I was done trying to make Oxford work out for me.
Hazy future
I'm not sure that I know anymore,
just what’s fair, what's right at all.
There's a long way to go on this open road,
at the mercy of all the world may throw.
I'm not sure that I feel anymore.
When my home is gone in misty stories,
my body is broken by men I don't know.
Sometimes I feel like a puppet, in a loser’s show.
I'm not sure of what I do anymore,
though I've been avoiding it for so long.
The reason’s lost, why I go on.
Can I build it back, when I keep getting it wrong?
Hazy future, yeah, it looks like another misty dawn.
I salute you - all those who carry on.
When the bed you lie on, isn't your own,
and the life you live is no longer normal.
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