the soundtrack of my youth was
the vacant puffy lyrics performed
by satin clad blokes and cheese
clothed lasses
occasional protest song broke through
the ones that made you think
'bout education and war
and how unfair it all was
grandad shined my shoes on Sunday
by Monday they were scuffed
Tuesday I had Brownies
and points were took off
I was not smart enough
grandad's box was blue
no, it was red silly girl
fairly certain it was blue, I sat on it for goodness sake
Don't argue with me it was red, it was red.
like the cloud of anger in your head
flowers are red the protest song went on
always always red never any other colour
and I learned as a child that when she
said red, it had to be red.
but I grew up
and I grew apart
I grew to know Jesus
and got a seat at his table
rainbow flowers fill my world
why would I ever return to red?
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Rebuilding Community 