Photo Stills

Photo Stills

Wet day,
A re-enacted battle for a film,
Cannon fire, fake blood spilled,
Sweaty actors breathing hard under unaccustomed suits of armour,
Camera lenses misted up,
Underfoot grass a muddy mire

Joannie tries to keep things running smooth -
She's in charge of photo stills
(She's had a lot of practice at trying to freeze time),
And the sound of gunshot fire in the rain
Brings back echoes of that day
And it's a memory
She doesn't want to have to face,
So she plays a horrible game,
Dodging flashbacks as they race
To haunt her mind (frozen little pieces of time)
All those years spent inside -
She paid the price

Nobody knows her here -
It's a new life
She's managed to scrape out for herself,
She moved to England to escape -
New house, new friends, new name
And she can't break down, not now,
No - it would be impossible to explain,
So she smiles and captures time,
Photo stills, freeze-frame

But there's a baby crying in her ears,
The sound seems loud though it's nowhere near,
She looks around but it's in her mind
The child she had to leave behind
(They took him away when she went to prison)

And it's too much responsibility,
Heavy, suffocating memories
Of killing the man she hated to love
They wouldn't believe what he was guilty of,
But Joannie was always good at making-up
Her face was never as it seemed,
Amazing what she could cover up with foundation cream
And make-believe she was fine,
When underneath the bruises shined,
And self-defence was worth the ten years of her life in the Jury's
eyes

Joannie fixes a smile to her face, works on and welcomes the rain
-
It hides her tears, explains the mascara-run,
She raises her chin, works away - a sort of fragile defiance,
And she hopes that no-one's noticed the pain in her eyes

It's a shame her new life is made of lies.