Grey is the colour you used to see for all the surrounding buildings, only, it is different now. The future came and threw us into a smelting pot of dosh, drugs and little to no aspirations. Me, Leeroy, Jones and Blue are stood staring at the world coming our way. We look like four tall drinks of water, progression suspended in front of billboard captions for next months elections. A time to persist as the big men in the building lick the tip of a finger to count their cards, capital and potential market capacity. The kings of the land say act wisely and you will not be reprimanded, to suppose that liberty stands in the aura of freedom. These islands, short of history, but rich in existentialism, get attention, not that we don’t deserve it, it just could be appropriated more appropriately.
Regardless of the qualms and troubles for the beef we lend our hands freely to the people in the street to grab a buck or two. We carry on arms welcoming, grins grinning and in the midst of our chaos we hardly noticed. Or maybe it was ignorance? Our dive provided enough time to spark a snarling growler, and perfectly enjoy the breeze flowing through the trees in the street. Our sharp ground tipping toe tappers traversed the promenade, leading us to The Orange Tree. Elation finding us capped as we clamber to reach the bottom of the bottle. Consider our stake in the game, we could of gone much further. To classify our intentions we split into twos. Seats and fizz. Continuing into the dusty night of putting away neat whisky on the rocks till the morn, our shattered competence finally deadening the conversation, only a day of our grind would push you to. Singles, we understand, its always double if you’re lonely.