I didn’t go out again – something inside – keeps robbing me
The cruel life of childhood pegs me down:

Yesterday I was out and the late-night fell
I saw a breathtaking city evening above the crowds

An inner whisper
She tugged like a horses bit
Upon my heart

It was my mother’s voice
I would be helping her with shopping in town
The child son child

Time on the horizon was going away
Like the sun – stars pinpricking at fears

“Let’s hurry home before your father gets back from work”
(With his head in the telly and his feet on the mantlepiece)

And we’d have to go back home: back to the slavery, back to the routine
Light up the oven, peel the potatoes, cook the dinner

And the crow of slavery repeats its death
And it has left behind its smelly carcass in my soul

The crow-of-slavery repeats its death  – it did not die
It left me behind its dehydrated carcass deep into my soul