The Victory Lap

It all builds up in your head that things will change

But there's nothing gonna shift

It just moves on, continues along

New suits, new ties, new colours

Trapped in this misery, looking at each, other wanting to fight

Wild red eyes, shouting your rights, morale drops

The land murmurs a bit with discontent

So the flags come out sporting lament

It's an opportunity for bunting and a rerun of fantasised glory

Stereos out, keep your wits, party tunes, greatest hits

We've blocked the road with wheelie bins and stacked the tins

We live for tiny moments of joy

Our pains and grievances can be brushed aside in an instant

Because today, it's hotter than Mallorca

And it's better because it's home and we're not alone

Sun's melting the pavement

There an offer on two-for-one, football's on, so let's take a wander

Spy a big screen, no breeze, everyone's easing into malcontent

Yet, we're all full of disappointment, powerless, slid down in our chairs

Sweaty and numb, sat, dead-eyed and dumb

Happily staring into the abyss on the barbecue pit

Watching the flames gather on the horizon

Tanked-up gladiators fighting in the corner

Nothing's happened, it's just chests at dawn

A little spit, a little growl, a little love

Peacock bravado, a sideshow of sportswear

Skinny fit posture, lovely tan, all modern man

Cigarette smoke fills the air

Mixing with the sunshine, and its sublime

Vapes to the back of us, smell of sweets

And we're taken back to those times gone by

No constant concerns with the nation's wars

No worries of Britannia's death throes

Just endless nights of hope

Hollered-out cigars full of drogue

Dreaming of a steady ship on a never-ending void

That feeling that we were infinite

An easy escape from small-town clamour

That clamour to create and the invincibility of youth

Joyous freedom, the fearlessness of it all

But your shift's almost over

Your memory's reviving, your memory's reviving

We're on a victory lap for surviving

And I reminisce too easily, we all do, I suppose

And yet, you know how it goes, my old BMX bike

That teenage football injury, dodgy knee-kill surgery

They took it off and put it back

Should have heard the crack when it snapped, proper gnat

And I guess we're all hypocrites gazing through that mix

Or, I'm a slightly lesser periodist

As things were different back then, things were better

Everyone old enough agrees

Innocent times, yet, admittedly more disease

Speeding off your adolescent tits in a railway underpass

It's five o'clock in the morning

You're not cold, it's fine, no regrets

The breeze is nice, it's fresh

As you mumble and stumble through your second pack of cigarettes

We're macking it out, you see, it's easy, best times of your life

Idealistic theory, and the birds start to tweet

As a cool morning fog rises up like catastrophic dread

Those words you were speaking are getting harder to say now

Yet, you can hear them running around in your head

That monumental dread and you can see it happening

You feel that heaviness, your bones suddenly glued

To the underpass floor 'til you can take no more

And it's slowing down, it's slowing down so much

You almost stop, people dash, memories flash

Sensations of contentment, resentment, fearlessness, youth

Vaseline tints your ecstatic vision to a blur

No escape from this crush as you collapse into a bush

When you sway less than 400 metres away from your front door

Struggling to take any more

The regret of not wearing a coat finally hits

As your body collides with the piss on the floor

Your memory's reviving, your memory's reviving

We're on a victory lap for surviving