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VERSE 1:
ADAM
- I was young, everything was tough and or brill
- Pen scribbled hard, still sharp and fast
- It all went into the book
- From the slow-kill job to the blown-bills raving
- Niche in the sofa deepens
- Cup of tea and my rollups
- Squeaking wheel from the earhole
- Gerbil running, Bic biro hums like the dynamo that night has
- Spew time lapse, eyes full of light cats
- Speaking in lover’s tones
- Spew drunks out on London road
- To the beachfront, clean shirt, drink, ruck, fuck and home
- Found way with my fourth brother
- My navy day-a-page pad ‘09 diary
- Turn to a journal, a fateful day
- Gate 13 Heathrow, day long wait
- Kept busy since, with the dropped fruit
- Catching apples that would otherwise rot through
VERSE 2:
ADAM
- Now I’m cross legged, bedroom bound
- North London
- Rent in a tin on a shelf where I sleep
- Six people live here, I trust ‘em
- And I got enough work
- I know rents made next week
- More chilled out now and less angry
- Less trusting sadly
- Less self-destruction on the weekend
- I still love a pub and a free one, I just love my brain more
- And a page of A4 and a pen’s potential
- Though I scribble less bars now if I’m honest
- I always pack a pad in my back pocket
- Stop write on it when the need seizes
- Though recent that need comes less freely
- Now stuff’s just a brush touch easier
- I still stress, still graft, still work hard
- But I’m scrabbling in the dirt for that spark where a verse starts
- More content than the youth from the first half
- More level, less likely to die from a burst heart
- Not blocked, still hungry
- Just flowing slower
- I’m kinda frozen over
- So I read more books and I learn
- Learn more from people
- Listen, kotch, watch and observe
- I’m there when I bop along a curb past top dogs, lost souls and salts of the earth
- Headphones out, in the moment, mind open
- I stride and my eyes find everything
- I’m the space where I am and I still got a brain from skating
- Interpret my street as a play thing
- Writing’s my new wheels
- Parks less concrete more metaphysics
- In the library find me where non-fiction is
- On the train see me wiggin’ out to Prince and Tom Robbins
- Listen to less rap since the genre rotted
- Tired of rinsed rhyme schemes and non-topic concepts
- Swapped soul for a turf chair burst bare out my corner
- And found a whole world there
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