You’d better not steal the show
Before the guests leave the room
Lost and confused
Like red in the eye
Of Three happy youngsters
Who married the feeling
That covered their sadness
Locked in two rusty fences
Six days till November
And their faces all fallen
Cold in their bones singing
What mud cannot speak
With gospel now favoured
With two plates of pasta
And a belly that rumbles
Remaining the sideshow
Forever untitled.