It must have been cold

It must have been cold

Standing in the dark

Beneath a northern sky

Building up the fire to keep warm

Somebody said we lived in a bell jar

They had read it in a book

Which sounded quite poetic

As believable as being carried

On the shoulders of Atlas

Before he turned to stone

Or on the back of a stack of turtles

Shooting stars were fallen idols

Cigarettes were gold dust

Sold in singles to lippy kids

In a brown paper bag

That smelled of heaven

Sophistication and Casablanca

Before you had a ragged drag

On a wild Woodbine

A loosely rolled shag

Which stuck to your lips

Why did we persist?

Tobacco stained mouths

Were as foul as open drains

Throwing up was soundless,

Only babies cried

Out of sight behind a bush

Around the corner

Where dark shadows could feel warm

As lost heat seeped out of colliery cottages

Onto the street

Bonfires were never vanity

More a ritual of local bonding

Standing together as a sister, brother

Against the tide

Unaware of a life unseen

A distant change

Soon to come to pass

As kids got older than they were meant to be

Before exposure to the future

Ground unwritten stories into the dirt

Where even now,

Beneath our feet

Old bones and coal dust lie

Thank god no one else will die

To furnish a soul-free suburban landfill

Re-imagined as an opportunity

In pursuit of progress.