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Friday 24 April 2015

Day Twenty Four

Head’s banging like drums and dreams
Drumming for dreams that keep on banging
They're inside his head now trying to escape
Insisting that he bangs on the pipes too

The pipes where they dry the orange peel
That they roll with tobacco are always hot
Another tattooist a needle another tattoo
One last cigarette before they cough  

He sells his last pair of shoes for something to eat
Pulls the wet curtains around him and tries to sleep
The curtains that double as a towel and a sheet
Hanging from the landing dangling out to dry 

Banging the drum for the western dream
To croak in the land of the soft ice cream

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