I Died On The Last Breath Of Her

I died on the last breath of her
Fallen and shaped like a sack of old cloth
On the ground beneath the stolen moments of our love
Her majesty gone
She was my innocence
.

I cried on the last yawning gape of time
Held to the ground by the weight of old sack cloth
In the hand of my forefathers' stolen dreams
Their majesty gone
Here is my open wound of childhood
.

Some snide bastard quite the game ahead of me
And dragged with them the sullen opportunity
I wanted to chase after it
Its majesty
But soft contrasts hard fell on open ground
.

Watford what do you have left of me?
That Caratacus Green where England hides the likes of me
Beaten to the ground by fellows laughing from wet pavement
The Victoria School
Where boys are made into their image of working-class lout and scum
.

I died on the last breath of her
There in the mud, a fallen sack of cloth
Boot and thunder in my sides
Our last moments of love
She was my innocence
.