Blow Me Up

 
I was nine
with a few pence
in a pocket
accompanied by stones
and dirt .

Wobbling along
on a treadless tyred
bike
living
some ficticious
temporary role of , anything
like , a knight or something .

My Mother
called 'PAUL' !
so I returned
excited , as I knew
by her look , her stance
we were going into town .

It was a sunburn
type of day
as the metal, self operated
missile
carried us into Manchester .

We shopped
looked around
and all that kind of , social stuff
that normal people do
Yeah , normal stuff .

That night
I saw the news
I saw one of the places
from my ' normal'
day .

It was barely standing
(the building that is)
yeah , we were
lucky
yeah
I am lucky
very .