Sometimes its just nice to relax and let your thoughts take you on a journey. Each thought leading to the next one but with no direction in mind

Sitting in the middle of a David Hockney painting
I can hear the splash splash splash
You with your memories pretty memories
Always dragging you back

Ripping pages from a leather bible
And making paper aeroplanes
But they won ‘t fly
The words are too heavy for you and I
Now I hear you wishing on stars
Counting fingers and writing home
Little Richard on the gramaphone

Be bop a loola ah sweet Gene Vincent 10 years later but still a wonder
Turn the sound low so they think you’re a good kid
Big dinner at one on a Sunday
Billy Cotton has kept us awake

Thoughts of riding to town in my blue car
With just these pedals I won’t get too far

Sister older but boyless still wondering
Father drinking mother washing clothes
My friend Lawrence shooting caps from a 45
Sterling Moss shifting through the gears

Summer with sandwiches sitting in a tent
Made from a clothes horse and a woollen blanket
No TV only a wooden radio
Station names printed on the dial

Sallys calling but I cannot hear her
She’s twenty years in the future with auburn hair
I’m still a kid in baggy khaki trousers
Not even a hint of pubic hair

I think I’m gonna go to sleep now
Sleep now
I think I will sleep now
And dream of who I will become