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Tourists

There is no time like the present

No time to call me the better man

I love you all but still you sin

You smoke like Dirk but hold your fin

Like an animal

You do not win

In absence of glory you do not tell

The winner is evil the sky the begin

Of pleasure inperilled

The arc of bin laden

Does not finish here

But there where you win

The aimless start of war can be

The anywhere else for you do not begin

The end does start to make it sin

You do not know where I cannot simply

Open your eyes to the title track

Of the lp

I love to play

10 to 1

Is not the time

It opens doors

Where love begins

I di not know where you

Cannot sin

Begin the where

When no one sins

Where your difference on the brow

And hold your crooked man

On the sow

Soo-ee, soo-ee

I love you more

Than pigs do in your final hour

Do not know me when

You power

I know you not

And love you nire.

Pyre is work I do not pleasance

Take the bow

The corner presence

Is open now

I cannot hold

You again.

Bcdfn.

Copyright Bruce E Saunders 2020

I saw Martin this morning and we greet each other

Like old school friends for both of us

Have seen the view from

The House on the Hill,

Chastised for our public behaviour.

He cadged a cigarette instead of offering coffee

This morning, as he said

We all have our ups and downs.

The street buskers are boring us

It’s too early for the pan pipes which we

Agree send us to sleep

Met some tourists from Minnesota

Charming visitors and I discovered

I know more about Bath than I ever

Should or expec-ted.

Yellow-stone home.

Copyright B E Saunders 2016