And where Rose goes, who knows?

Right now I know she sleeps

When I’m spark out, she’ll be about...

For every joy there comes a pain;

To know you’s joy – and your demise?

The thrilling kiss, the soul that cries…

The world’s a place of cups of tea

Flowers on tables, strange summer skies...

Time scowls, weather frowns, 

Nevertheless I hold your hand.

Though we were in different towns...

You see the leaves that fall in autumn – 

Each one’s a dream that’s died

Of love, achievement, each a post mortem...

Brentford, old Brentford – means for me

My lifelong home, my angel-nest

My school, my pastime and, what’s best...

You’re my beauty (boredom’s death!)

The beast maybe me, I don’t know

Or p’raps a frog who’ll suddenly grow...

With Allie singing round the place

Gracing the stairs as I say my prayers

Letting the sun start from her face...

Though I’m under the spell

Of you when young, my life’s best half,

It still may not be well...

They say the street is swept and cleaned by sunrise

At nine the traffic stops and blackbirds sing...