The Funnys

Sweat is the scent, sweet sweat acidic even it is hanging in the doorway

Back room is blue, walls, framed mirror and thick blue and white Persian rug

A piano?  This escapes me 

What does not is a local boy head bent dripping from nose, white powered sprayed across oak the lines little finger of left hand would marvel at before 

Lifting to play Chopsticks

There on the sky, surrounded by purple, green, Ivy bush that my toosh flew into

much laughter they died laughing

eyes dilated and a familiar together they are now similar 

The world is good it is fun, it's laughter lessons of a father 

Screaming ''ludicrous'' adding to the hilarity

Music hits in shaking places and they see through eyes of owl

Throwing in the towel of life - discussing nothing yet it is Deeeep man 

so deep that they have found the meaning of all things

Collided brother and sister 

The violence the fist, the black eye forgotten

The shut down and shut out of father and daughter so he felt bemused, so bastarded infront of them 

Nothing remained.  The mic comes out and songs rhyme over beats and the beats are fine, she blows her own mind

Being disowned is great 

And the pills pop and the music rocks and rocks and rocks 

Water is ridiculed only Lambrisco, Stella, Vino from the cellar, 

Adding gravy to the dinner a little E for the final whammy 

And life is new again

Every mirror they are the height of style, sunglasses in daylight 

The stars are red 

Bed don't exists and they do this because when all is dry

They only wish to be brother and sis without the devastation of the blood line from another mister. 

Blend is helped in this Self Medicating house of Dorset of Ealing of Victorian corniced ceiling