And so it begins ...

And so it begins

Small pieces of culture
Fall out of the mainstream
Flapping gasping fish out of water
Struggling staggering
Clutching our fledgling dreams
Slipping stumbling falling back in failing flailing

First we found our hands
Then our voices
Rising in a cacophony
Colliding with itself as we cling together
Falling apart at the seams
Howling in the babylogue
That infests our soul, our spirit

Gradually we come together in secret dirty places
Trading contraband to fuel our illicit adventures
Rough trade becomes our black market bread and butter
Fuelling financing and freeing us
From the unyielding fetters of a lifetime’s hard labour
So that we can build small worlds
In the big cities
Wherein we can grow

And little by little
Subvert the workforce that occasionally trickles in
Filling their heads with outlandish notions
Concepts of freedom and responsibility,
Which they just, can’t shake from their minds
Dropping inadvertently into the working week
The seedlings of change
That they have gathered during their weekends
Spent in fairyland