1 September 2005
They were taking down the banners on Calendar Street
They were talking like soldiers at the trackside meet
There was movement in the docklands on the passenger side
Some white Russian with a fancy hat had brought the moon in on the tide
And you show me your body, and your only tattoo
And I know by your eyes and the curl of your lips that I’m worthless to you
And you light my cigar, put your knife in my back
With a lover’s twist.
I will shout your name to the four corners of the universe
I will harness the winds to the black devil’s curse
I will ride down an angel and I will slay her in her bed
But to you I will be nothing more than a name in a book you once read.