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Dead Heat

Numbers melt off the clock in this dead heat,

clouds dock between telephone wires

in a stagnant sky to watch the concrete


steam and stick to car tyres.

Even the bluebottles admit defeat,

one last thud against burning glass.

The day dies as red as suburban brick,

midges swirl and swarm in the grass

as stars flicker and clocks begin to tick

towards midnight.

A day passed

in non-existance;

breaths wait static

to be inhaled again,

like ghosts.

I hope you guys enjoy this song🙂 as much as I do😉