Not sure about the title. Influenced by Dan Smith of Listener, Charles Bukowski, and a cold journey on the bus. It's a poem to be performed over some minimal jazzy acoustic guitar. C4C

Well the way I remember it was like this:
A few words said in a moment
So far from bliss it felt like I was thrown from a window
So high that I couldn't see where I'd land

You closed the window cus you don't like the cold
And drew the curtains on who I used to be.

I'm not saying I don't blame you
But in some ways I'm grateful;
Falling for such a height did wonders for my self-awareness

So there I was, windows flashing past at an alarming rate
Realising that I was surely being acted upon by an irresistible force that affects us all
At one point or points in our lives.

You went back to watching Deal Or No Deal -
Or another of those crap programs -
And probably gave the situation not that much thought
Your mum paid no interest, so in some ways it never even really happened,
Did it?

I hit the ground hard and it hurt,
I lay there in a haze whilst a newspaper flapped accusingly by my feet
As if to give a grating snide word of late warning:
I ****ing told you so
Disinterested brown leaves blown from a tree down the road skipped by
And I realised things had kinda fallen apart.

I don't often find peace, even in fragments
But when I was laying there with my face in the gutter
I later saw that at that moment in time
I wasn't at war with anyone
I don't remember exactly what I said or why
And no doubt I'll say it again in the future,
But I'll never forget how I felt in that grounded state
Bruised and battered but without complaint.

If I could take the fragments and piece them together
In succession, then I reckon I'd have a few weeks of peace -
I'd bathe in the glow of my own contentment
And no doubt I'd have a proper good time.
But with things being the way they are,
We only get snatches of glow
And glimpses of the sun when the clouds part.

If I never meant what I said even when I said it,
The situation would have been just the same;
Your mum still wouldn't have cared
And the newspapers would still scream and point at the feet that crossed the line,
So in some ways, it would have happened whatever I said,