For every hour on the road elsewhere
We talked about a future so special
I had no
Doubt you could become a confidence
I'd not seen of you
So rare a turning of the heads
A turning of the heads
We catch each other out
with our tall tales
We catch each other out
The greyhounds run their fences
Will Burrell and Fitzgerald
Taunting their charges
As I leave
And we escape their earshot
For I am not a brave man
Confronted with the smell
The wire, a body confronted with a smile
We catch each other at our
Tall tales, we catch each
other at
We tied a boot lace and hella scarves
to the accommodating tree
that circled the gore tunnel
Kept in the magic,
put out the ghosts of the non -believers
We made a cross out of birch and invented it
I said a silent prayer for you
to the way of Mary
Chipped plaster,
virgin in the tummy of your hands
We catch each other out
with our tall tales
We catch each other out
whilst you spoke your obscenities
Thus proving a helpless state
I was scared you would spit
or piss in this regard
But you just laughed at
this strange country
With its strange old gods and ghosts
and brave foreign drunkards' flies
How strange we should find
peace with one another
We catch each other out
with our tall tales
We catch each other out
you