Words chasing him down shoebox streets
Words chasing him down shoebox streets He hears scraps of conversations walking past the pub The bitumen peels back revealing more words beneath to step on The tram drivers on this route are the meanest in the City He has to step out in front of the tram to stop them In the Mall gargoyles and stone lions stare down at him In Prahran the second hand washing machines make him woozy He walks to the front door of a two story terrace The letter box is freshly painted caramel A woman nursing a young child answers Sorry. We moved in about seven years ago Right house Wrong decade Back in the Mall Religious fanatics hound him Gargoyles and stone lions stare at him He lays his face on the wooden bench And pulls his overcoat over his head Words chasing him down shoebox streets