Songwriter, guitarist and composer
The Few
A simple tale of love and loss, the narrator resenting the fact that night still follows day and the mundanity of everyday life continues as expected for most people despite he being utterly heartbroken and unable to undertake any task without being reminded of the gal in question.
The loser in the bookies seems at ease with his lot.
The traffic warden rookie seems to love the life he's got.
The barman never faltered as he handed me the gin.
The sergeant at the desk never once betrayed his grin.
Maybe they've a stash inside the flue,
but I don't know how they conquer mornings without you.
The cemetery gardener never panders to his age.
The big lad and bull mastiff seem to revel in their rage.
The busker buggering Bacharach never bothers with a key,
but nothing shakes the toddler dancing wildly at his knee.
Perhaps they found some mojo in their shoes,
but I don't know how they face the music without you.
Or maybe they're related to the few,
but I don't know how they chocks away in leiu of you.
I doubt that one of them has ever taken stock,
written nothing, got depressed and had to stop.
You can see in their eyes they've never had to prize themselves
away from Sky just to buy milk and bread and pop.
The couple chasing heroin don't let you break their stride.
The civic hygiene operative sweeps memories aside.
The market trader's twisting arms with unrelenting steam.
The local weirdo's gusto is exactly as it seems.
Maybe they don't know what you can do,
but I don't know how they how's your father without you.
Or maybe they're related to the few,
but I don't know how they chocks away in leiu of you.
Written by Del Scott Miller
Mobile: 07988775994
Mobile: 07988775994 | Email Del Scott Miller