Town Moor
By Ewan
Wed, 02 Dec 2009
- 2373 reads
16 comments
Stand behind the Waltzers,
load up at the Rifle Range,
wink at the girls by the Hoop-la,
pick up a bit of strange.
Move on after the weekend,
follow the caravans:
enjoy the fools on the dodgems,
laugh at their pension plans.
Candy floss is spun sugar,
the train's ghost is someone's dad,
one dream sold on a Saturday,
is a future you've never had.
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Comments
Grabbed me - this one did,
Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Grabbed me - this one did, Ewan.
Tina
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Wonder how the music worked.
Wonder how the music worked. I imagine an aged crone sat in a caravan with a turntable and a stack of 78s ....Johnny Ray, Gene Vincent, Connie Francis. She drank Guinness and smoked Weights.
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Very evocative. I can almost
Very evocative. I can almost hear the music and smell the trampled grass.
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Yes, me too. Who hasn't been
Permalink Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on
Yes, me too. Who hasn't been to a funfair and wanted to run away with them? I think you should have mentioned earrings though - ooh and David Essex
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I had totally forgotten the
Permalink Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on
I had totally forgotten the teeth! Still no earrings though.....
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was the question mark for
Permalink Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on
was the question mark for me? I'm sorry, I fell asleep : (
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jetlag and exhaustion after
Permalink Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on
jetlag and exhaustion after arriving back to only partially cleared up party. Just making sure I didn't offend anyone ...
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I thought the full stop
I thought the full stop might be a little too minimal so I added the stuff about the crone in the caravan.
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