'Too Many Poets'

Chris Copping's mp3 sketch here

Key to authors' pseudonyms

I looked behind me through the open door
The hand moved forward and the clock struck four
The embers in the open hearth glowed red
Your naked body still lay on the bed.

I forced myself to walk away
With legs that were responding to the games I play
My mind was starting to regret
Was this the hardest thing that I’d done yet.

Stealing little pieces in the dark of night
A jigsaw of the dreams I try to fight
But shadows in the moon don’t get that bright
And wanderers in the dark don’t find the light.

I moved towards the still deserted street
The ground moved speedily beneath my feet
Another chance to find my way
Had vanished in the void before the day.

Stealing little pieces in the dark of night
A jigsaw of the dreams I try to fight
But shadows in the moon don’t get that bright
And wanderers in the dark don’t find the light

Procol Harum concerts in 2001: index page

Manchester: Palers' Convention

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