QUEEN

Night tap hollow
A cop widow swings the mop
New papers old news
Eschewing the passing time
In the departure hall
Shooing the pall across the pews
Of Jomo Airport
The phew of human skin and dirt
Where I lay alone
In the silence of runaways
And silent runways
Of the neither here nor there
Nor fresh nor foul
And as she swings she sings

We're not here to punish fate
We are here to banish hate
On this long way home
This long way home
Going home

Singing holy for those we nurture
Singing holy for all our future
Singing holy so we're sure
Of another holy day

So let go of the spectre
Hold on to the sceptre
For you shall be a queen someday