Not the kind of man you take home to your mum, except until things went wrong he seemed exactly that sort of man.

It's only money


It's only money
Only the lost hours of labour's labour.
The bodies sweat pilfered.  Dreams
I have dared to dream - pocketed.
By the trusty dipper, dip, dip.

But it's only dreams.

The lace, noose, stitched up, girdle tight
By a father's son, a daughter's dad,
Businessman's guile, with his fraud safe systems
For shame shifting.  Breath - less.

But it's only money.

Your moral highground scuppered
In a fog of fantasy as you laugh your God
Back through the eye of the needle
With its pain pricked precision

But it's only worship

And the man who thundered you into shape
Sees your shape shifting
Thrifty, shifty, dip dip
And wails, like I wail, at your betrayal

But it's only trust

While the lost friends stare
At the lost ranting lunatic's fear
And fear. Disappear. Along
With my money and you - my money and you.