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 once upon a time

johnmcguckin78gmailcomheathergibsonjohnnyduncangeishashadowsontheheart
INNOCENCE OF THE CHILD
 
What’s that smell? What smell? The smell.
I don’t smell, Oh the smell of the town? That’s
always around, you’d not notice, if you lived here,
but you, you’re a wee country girl. No I’m not, yes you are.
 
Strange smells, stranger people, little caring
that’s the way of a town. Just get used to it.
It’s always hanging around, nobody’s got any time
gotta make money and money smells.  Nobody realises 
they’re all in their own private hell, fancy perfume and
tailor shops, oops watch that truck, gotta be careful
when you’re walking about downtown.
 
Tell you what; get in your pram Faith, its safer than walking.
Poo that really stinks, I know, but the bus and cars
all really lend themselves to the smell of the town.
We’ll walk around then get the train back. It smells
as it sways along on ribbons of steel, but it gets us out of town 
 
 







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