The winter breeds a fear in me of snowy days, of dying trees. Last year we sat by the lake, our legs hunched up into huts for the frozen ground. And as the snow fell around us I heard you whisper something about the summer. 'The Summer bore us, wreathed in flames to my house and back again. We talked a lot about sadness with whiskey on our breath and flowers wrapping through my hair. Do you remember?' I remember whiskey. For a while we sat and watched the ducks rear their heads from the ice and glance about for Spring. They anticipate their next fuck. You spoke again but this time not loud enough for me to hear: a sound killed by the icy air. I pulled you near and I spoke in chokes. 'It is Winter now and I can't remember how to be happy.' I did not add: 'But soon the sun will rise and life will cascade through my eyes.' The Summer brings a warmth to me, of sunlit days, of living trees.

Did we ever even dream? I can’t remember. I don’t know How or when or where We used to scream, Although, I know we did. Yes. Did we ever really feel? I can remember a book Stuffed full of cinéma Tickets, receipts, Illusions, Deceits. I know we tried. Yes, I know we did. Did we ever try to fight? I feel that no-one Knows: the eyes That I see: empty, Empty, Empty. I know we walked. Yes, I know we did. I know we did. And I remember that walk: The snow, The banners, The chants, The screams, The mass, The walls Of neon, The stand, The fall, The hope, The chaos, The despair. And I remember Clutching at a cigarette, And a placard, my coat Draped around me, Feeling damned, lost, and dead.

You broke your ankle falling off of a pier in 2002; wet sand clogging with the blood falling out of you. Did you jump or was the seaweed too slippy to balance on? The pool of red grew. And the doctor said, ‘This is all I can do: Bandage over the dead tissue. You’re lucky you didn’t land on your head.’ That night your father cried; He realised his sweet child had died. In 2007 you cut yourself over some girl: you’d waited in the rain for hours all for her to curl her hair and arrive. The time had struck 10: you were still there. And your mother said, ‘This is all I can do: Bandage over the dead tissue. You’re lucky you didn’t tell your dad instead.’ That night your mother hung her head: She realised that everything she knew was dead. In 2010 you moved away from home, trying to start fresh on your own. You found the bed too wide. The kitchen too cold. And no-one said anything. That night you hung your head and cried: Everything you had ever known had died.

I can feel water licking my arms and my chest, I’ve floated far from the earth and the cliffs and the rest. And I’m cold. If I look on the horizon then all I can see Is a bank of black clouds stretching in front of me And this time I really don’t think that I Will escape. I think I’m dying. I think I’m fucked. And I’ll soon be dust. But, The wolves and the dogs, O they’re done with me. They’ve uncut my boat, let me drift out to sea With nothing for comfort but books and lust So simply put, they didn’t pause, they must Think that this it. I won’t bother them anymore. No. No, not like before. But they’re wrong. ‘Cause, I just want to live as much as can be So, I’ll read the first lines of this fine poetry As I sail beneath clouds, yeah, As I sail beneath clouds of black. And from here in my boat I’ll wave you away, I don’t need your help, no, I don’t dismay: Although my body may rot and I’ll be forgot It doesn’t matter ‘cause I’ll tell you what Just can’t die and I won’t even lie When I say that love and compassion, They’ll never be in fashion But they won’t die. They’ll never die. So, I address this song to you in your bed At night when you can’t sleep or you think you're dead Because the wolves, they’re baying, they’re baying At your door. And they mean war. Just remember that all things at all things monetary Are contemporary and therefore temporary, And let yourself drift out alongside me And sail along on the big deep blue sea And think you’re free and it will be. Just remember that all the greats, the crumble to dust And that all of the evils ideas in this They will rust. Think you’re free And it will be, with just these thoughts: ‘I just want to live as much as can be So, I’ll read some more lines of some fine poetry And we’ll march beneath banners, We’ll march beneath banners of black. And from here in the crowd, yeah, we’ll wave you away, We don’t need your help and, no, we won’t dismay: Although our bodies may rot and then be forgot It doesn’t matter ‘cause we’ll tell you what Just can’t die and we don’t lie When we say that love and compassion Though they aren’t in fashion They’ll never die. They just can’t die.’