Dominated by the music
Unable to speak
The years of struggle
Inside me like an iron cage
With no gate
I hung there, a muted tortured songbird
In the Italian Restaurant
On Bethnal Green Road
Music, that swinging lamp
Carried through a storm
Lit only for special occasions
Filled my ears at last
Like the whistle of a runaway train
And all I had to help the pain
Was a single glass of white wine
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thank you Chris, by the way the song/poem is finished more or less
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Chris, the song is finished more or less!
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Ohhh, it’s beautifully written! Craving for a glass of wine already!
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Thank you very much
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