Wood; turned, sanded, polished and varnish
Worthwhile work
Worthy of saving you from the sanatorium
A pint of beer, a reminisce
Of whatever happened
In that society of social gathering
Inside another room, twenty seven cubic metres
Nowhere further
For your outreach thoughts to roam
Should anybody work it out
The past is to pass it on
About that other idea, to clear you out
A coffee cup, a cake, an interrupted conversation
Stay awhile, please don’t go
Help me to understand
I like you, you are quite ordinary, and you see
I am frightened, I am afraid
Of becoming old, of being a responsible adult
It’s fun to play, to think unruly thoughts
Not to go home; not now or ever
Never not never to settle down
