4.47 AM (The Remains of Our Love) - Roger Waters



As cars go by I cast my mind's eye

Over back packs on roof racks

Beyond the horizon

Where dream makers

Working white plastic processors

Invite the unwary

To reach for the pie in the sky

Go fishing my boy!



We set out in the spring

With a trunk full of books about everything

About solar devices

And how nice natural childbirth is

We cut down some trees

And we trailed our ideals

Through the forest glade

We dammed up the stream



And the kids cooled their heels

In the fishing pool we'd made

We held hands and we exchanged bands

And we practically lived off the land

You adopted a fox cub

Whose mother was somebody's coat

You fed him by hand

And then snuggled him down

In the grandfather bed while I wrote

We grew our own maize

And I only occasionally went into town

To stock up on antibiotics

And shells for the shotgun that I kept around

I told the kids stories

While you worked your loom

And the sun went down sooner each day.





Jade:



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