My friend, Olly Dee, is a funny old card,
He could have been so many things,
A builder, an architect, surgeon, a cop,
A soldier, a pilot with wings;
In fact, he did nothing at all with his life,

'Hush! Dear, Hush!
Your mother has went,
To fly all night
A broomstick, to Gwent.
You must be quiet,
Lips heavy as lead,
Or father will wake
To a broom in his bed.'

'Hush! Dear child,

'A very good morning to you, my good lord,
I trust you've been sleeping exceedingly well,
The lodgings are cramped at this time of the year,
Not what you're used to
But now that you're here,

From Cap de Hault to Frenchman's Lease
Lies seven miles of moving ice,
A lady comes there once or twice a year
To view that precipice.
The glacier, that tortuously

I think that I was only nine
When first I met Metzengerstein,
Too young to know his foul intent,
Too young, too pure, too innocent.

He lived in some old ruined church

The vicar went to the valley,
A mountain on either side,
He built a small log cabin
To comfort his future bride,
The wind between the mountains
Brought echoes of far-off plains,

I’ve no use
For your snow or your grass,
Your horse or your hash
Or your stone type trash;
I can get high
On the breeze and the sky,
The storm passing by
And the lightning flash.

The mad churl at the headstone,
The vane’s point, south,
The bright burn, the sad sin
At the carlin’s mouth.
The young field on the old day
By the age-old tarn,

I spun the car in a squealing turn
To come to rest by the Olsen gate,
Pumped the pedal and rammed the horn
And yelled: ‘You ready? It’s getting late.’

Do you think that I’m Captain Marvel,
Do you think that I’ve got the power?
I’m a teenage howl with a hooded cowl
As the whey of the world turns sour.
I’m a puppet, churned in a frenzy

I see with eyes
Not of my conception.
I steal sighs and weave why’s
Wrought from some disaffection with your
Wherefore’s and therefore’s, and buts
Ifs, ands, hands and thighs.

The sun dipped into a puddle
The moon burst out of the hill,
His watch had stopped at the junction
And he had sighed at the mill,
The sky was cast in a sullen glow

‘It’s all I can do to remember
Your face, your look or your smile,
You left one day, but you didn’t say
You’d be gone for many a mile;
For many a mile and fortune

Do you ever get that feeling that
You’re flying, or you’re dying, and
You’re watching, like it happened once before?
When your mind is rather hazy, or disturbed

This dream has ravelled at the edge
Of darkness, since the world turned once,
Before me and behind me
When my spark flared
And dark dared me to ignite!
But the world totters, shattered by