Books & Water

I put all my eggs in one basket The basket that you gave to me. One was called hope One was called truth And other called peace That makes three... No more circles round the bare light bulb Oddly remaining me of Francis Bacon And then I wander Just where you are And what conections you are making Yes, such a swift departure You left me clutching a half paint of lager I looked up and you were gone Leaving the Blockheads and all your mates On the stage to carry on... The next generation... Bring'em on, Bring'em on, Bring'em on... So I'm left with the eggs and the bacon, And you could be oceans away... But if -when I yell outside the gates of hell- You appear with a smile and a swagger May be we can sit down in the devil's arms And order a fresh paint of lager