love the London dark light in late November,
I go creepin' round the ancient Roman ways of town
- east o' Lundenwic, always the best place to be,
I stand in shadow alleys an' empty squares
full of beautiful saturday emptiness,
like breathin' in the best o' life.
Walk down the main streets
gazing up at towers an' cranes lost in the mist,
the ever present kickin' space of never endin' building
like better gods risin' up from out o' the ground;
love the light, love the atmosphere,
the faint blue band o' sky to the east
fills me 'ead with earth crust sensations.
that taste of ozone after a brush of rain
has me crouchin' down on the pavement,
lookin' up at the sky again;
hopeless dreamer of the realm -
monsieur ghost eternal.
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