after the show is over
everybody has their wine
easter rain is falling out there
where i am safe in my little room at the resort
not far from the ocean
the most easterly easter on the island
someone sees me and says something
i heard you were good
thats a lie i say ha ha
i feel so sleepy in my little room
very unmagical
struggling to keep it together to remain awake
even tho its only 8 pm
theres a whole byron bay out there
wheeling dealing falling over
flesh against flesh
drug on drug
i am alone in my cell
i listen to rain i listen to weird sounds
i listen to phones ringing on in wild silence
and the advent of darkness
and women singing in some garage
and tyres screeching on another free way
i am safe i am secure
let that world outside drink and consume flesh
it has no bearing on me
i am safe and warm and dry and un noticed
my familiar face in deep shadow
my fingers tap this out incessantly
the words fall into my brain
i munch on a packet of hotel crisps
my room is still and neutral
i am satisfied
i want for nothing i am unseen here
all over the world things happen
but not in here
the show is over
i did my bit
singing dancing singing dancing
showbiz kid…..hang on grimmly
the crowd surges
backstage is dark and warm
different people cameramen and stuff
wranglers anglers and fucking fandanglers
people shake yer hand and walk by
some rich old promoter waddling along
some black svelte woman
someones child
a runner with a coffee for joe blow
its a festival
then youre on
wow!
then suddenly its all over
and you forgot what it was like
so you back in the room
where its still and its warm
listen to rain falling falling
falling down
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