lundona

And I fought with the lads on the corner, the pub kicks out and its time to go home. Paddy stares at the boys in the ford capri...you fuukin caant I'll have you my son! Its off, four gangly boys pile out, we pile in, screams, punches, my mouth warm from blood, two have me on the hood, Jay, gets one in the back as the rest of my mates pile out ov the boozer. Broken glass digging through skin, warm pain, warm blood, cold night. The car window smashes, they limp away


Got home, proud of my fat lip, put Spiders from Mars on, and wondered why I could never strut, or curl, gloss my lips, and prowl like Marc Bolen on E, caught in my own trap of juts being one of the lads, but there is so much more, to talk of a monet, or Bach's fugue, or a pretty cloud, to tell em, I loved em, to tell my girl, I loved her too, and perhaps sleeping around wasn't just ok. and with that my teens came to an end.

Breaking free from society's expecations is one thing, breaking away from my friends expectations was another.