Trying to hold his own, wait he's still at home.
Won't even own up to mistake he made in monochrome.
Every time you spoke, he'd even put you down on speakerphone.
Hindsight is black and white imagery taken within drone.
At thirty thousand feet she never puts her feet up.
Eloquently helping people relocated and set their dreams up.
He wishes they could meet up and catch up with a coffee,
offering opinion on some gossip like a silly sausage.
Nonsense, sometimes we need it though.
Sometimes we knead the dough too much and let the flavour go.
He was a slave for good behaviour, now the chains have broke.
Angel grove resurrecting Ivan Ooze, a dangerous bloke.
Despite his service chart, he deserved a purple heart,
or so he thought...neglected reason at the door.
Knock knock, he's not in the mood for jokes no more.
never understood the concept of playing an encore.
Guess his timing was off.
One bright red cross in the punctual box,
right at the bottom of the big bad blue report.
You and him, you grew up learning two schools of thought,
and three towns across and four words embossed,
stitched into a navy blazer that your mother gave you.
High five, see you later mate, six at the latest.
Eventually he ate his words when Main made alphabet spaghetti.
Do you get me when I address it in first?
It's the worst, let a verse contemplate the universe.
Now take it back to the bunsen burners and dungarees.
Spanish skirmishes, some subtle skulduggery.
Scratch the surface, pass the planners with dirty words in.
Have you heard his whacky accent he practised earlier?
Stood at the bottom off the science steps
while his mind crept up in the air.
Where you flying next?

If I told you how I'm feeling,
would you think that Im strange?
Lately darling I've been dreaming
about us going out in our dungarees.

Sipping and singing into this baby bottle until I throttle
my cushy buggy into a hug of a loving mother.
This discovery that you have made is like no other.
I wonder at night what colour eyes will give them sight.
And list which characteristics are mixed.
Button noses, brown eyes, and big lips.
A pick up sticks complexion of heritage stretching
from Delhi to the Reggio Emilia connection.
I feel affection for a future blessing,
but my body tense from sitting onto of a fence.
Selfish behaviour was not my saviour
so see you later rollerblading Talledega taking up my data.
I cannot wait for you to say "hi"
Eighteen moons in the womb until you arrive.
You'll walkie talkie when you start to cry
then we'll watch you walk and talk and sing lullabies.

Dummy landed on the sleet-hungry concrete street
covered in saliva from bleeding gums and crooked teeth.
Before it bounced on the ground the second time around,
a sound never heard made. grave man berserk.
But unearthed and grown, the hearse reversed like a scene unrehearsed.
The sun breathed life into the seed's universe.
Exceeding expectation, the seed agreed to engage in conversation.
One plant became the plantation.
One pop loved one of the population.
One price to pay for preservation.
One might say that time is overrated,
but one life is all we get to make a statement.
So ciao la mia famiglia, a Reggio Emilia.
Mi dispiace che e stato un po.
Ma prometto che torneró
si sediamo a tavola raccontando storie e bevendo vino, ciao!