I lie here and wait on a hospital trolley,
Wards are all full, I don't have a bed,
Been here all day, no one will hurry
For one who is old, and soon will be dead.
Yet I remember a time,
With a war to be fought,
When they needed me then,
The waiting was short.
But now I am old,
My life almost gone,
So I lie in the cold,
And the waiting is long.
"It could be you"
"It could be you" That's all I see
as I place my hope on the lottery.
To spend what I can ill afford,
on the tiny chance of a big reward.
Then home I go to dream a lot
as the cats get fat in Camelot.
but I've only ever won Ten Pounds
as I watch the balls go round and round.
And every week a millionaire
and just a little charity.
enough to let us know they care.
A question of morality.
Farewell to Falcarragh
A little boy,
Hiding in the garden of a cottage,
Crowds of people,
A man standing on a chair holding things,
A red tricycle,
All that was his,
Life was never the same again.