Bespoke font specific to Del Scott Miller

Songwriter, guitarist and composer

Songwriter, guitarist and composer

Fin


Ma Nature’s ‘Dear John…’ letter to mankind.


Remember when you staggered in, found your feet,

shook the frost from your hair

I sat you down, lit a fire and offered everything I could.

And as you filled your arms with that intended to be shared

there nagged a doubt so wise a custom

wasn’t fully understood. 


Soon that pact was nowt but ash beneath a fire you gladly stoked

Its embers filled a pit you filled where once a garden thrived

You turned my ceiling black with all that shit you sit and smoke 

and tell me how the fight for poisons is what keeps the world alive.

 

So pack up and leave your key beside the door,

I’ve not the patience or resources

for whatever poxy war you need to wage.


And now you doze, every fact and truth lay idle at your hand

You wait for takeaway opinion from a rank and stagnant font,

and you mould those fetid headlines into spurious demands

because there’s nothing quite so vital as your every whim and want.


I’ve voiced in every tongue what rotten states you’ve engineered

And I’ve not the grace or time to extend your welcome here another age.



Written by Del Scott Miller


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