Breakfast - Alan Hull, Ray Jackson, Ken Craddock

In the morning you rise, night is still in your eyes

Moving warm with content, the memory of your body’s scent

I watch your striptease in reverse, dip my head in your purse

Smiling softly you say, that I could not get much worse

Then scream of the kettle making steam

Reminding you and me, we need a cup of tea

Intimate breakfast scene, with sausage, egg and beans

Weetabix and jam and lightly grilled brown ham

Talking gently and low, I ask you why you must go

Having asked it I know, instead of yes you’ll answer no

Oh no, I’ve got to go back home

My child is all alone, don’t ring me on the phone

My husband will be there, it really isn’t fair

He still belives in trust, I’ve got to catch my bus

Looking through the window pane, watch her leaving me again

Wondering what’s in her head, I slowly sink back to bed

And I feel so empty that I must be dead