An All To Familiar Tale

Sitting down on an old chair
In an old room
In and old house
Playing an old tune
On an old guitar

Looking out of an old Window
In an old frame
Onto an old town
In an old country
With my old eyes

Hearing the Old bells
Ring an old song
From an an old church
With an old name
With my old ears

Watching an old movie
On an old station
On an old TV
In an old dressing gown

Making a cup of tea
In an old kitchen
on an old stove
In an old tea pot
With my old hands

laying down on an old floor
In an old room
In an old house
With my old bones
Bleeding old blood

laying down in an old church
In an old box
With an old tune
With my old friends
And their old words

Byron Gore November 14th 2012