i will leave self-pity in the old year
turn my anger into art
no fear
renouncing the gutter for the highroad
i will teach my suffering to dance
i dismiss pessimism
a poor strategy
all i need now
is to dig myself out of this corner
easy peasy

the old geezer
alone in the pub
that's me
if i sit here long enough
will i meet a friend
or just grow older

i didn't feel it for a moment
that all-gone feeling
in the illusion of your regard
now walking streets
fifty years on
that all-gone feeling dogs
the pubs crawl
commitments end
friendships finish
down the hatch
that all-gone feeling's gone

your love was sweet oblivion
momentary
forever
but i will learn to talk
to catch your wiles in verse
and then we'll meet
on equal terms