Arlington House
Address:
no fixed abode
An old man
in a
three-piece suit
sits in the road
He stares
across the water
He sees right
through the lock
But on and up like
outstretched hands
His mumbled words
His fumbled words
mock
Further down
a photo booth
A million plastic bags
And an old woman
filling out a million
baggage tags
But when she
gets thrown out,
three bags at a time
She spies the
old chap in the road
to share her bags with
She has bags
of time
Surrounded by
his past
On a short
white line
He sits while
cars pass either side,
takes his time
Trying to remember
one better day
A while ago when
people stopped
to hear him say
Walking round
you sometimes
hear the sunshine
Beating down in
time with the
rhythm of
your shoes
Now she has
walked enough
through rainy town
She rests her bag
against his
and sits down
She's trying
to remember
one better day
A while ago
when people stopped
to hear her say
Walking round
you sometimes
Hear the sunshine
Beating down
in time with the
rhythm of
your shoes
Walking round
you sometimes
Hear the sunshine
Beating down
in time with the
rhythm of
your shoes
The feeling of arriving
when you've nothing
left to lose
Walking round
you sometimes
Hear the sunshine