Sitting up with the washing up.



Sitting up with the radio and the washing up,
You relax,
allow the music to enfold you ;
Like a river wrapping its self around an island.



Whilst the neglected crockery
 skulks in its own fetid juices.
The throb of song, and thick voice of John Peel can not ease its

 bitterness.

 

 

 

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