What is this,

What is this,

Yesterday on speed dial?

Old newspapers covered in grease

Stuffed into a fireplace waiting for a match

Singed eyebrows,

Old-style barbers, using a taper

Whilst wide-eyed children worry

Their heads will catch fire

How did that ever come to be?

As a gentle sea breaks endlessly

Turning pebbles into sand

The white cliffs tumble

And the sun meets the moon

Forming a hole in the sky

Too dangerous to look into,

People can be swallowed whole.

There is no end to undiscovered misery

Trees are waiting to be heard

Their stories hold the promise

Of a new age

If we but listen

Not that we ever do

Even if you believe the river

Dances to the edge of the world

And everything is an illusion

Worth waiting for.

Nothing lasts forever,

Even yesterday

Becomes a product of tomorrow

Which is always one step ahead

Of today.

Don’t look back

Is not a suggestion

Recognition is an invitation

To proceed

Progress is something to look forward to

In the wake of hard times

As the best of us wonder

What the future brings

When the past has given the game away

For the last time,

Believe me,

This is it.