Summer Days, Winter Days.

Publishing these before they're lost in my poorly organised files.
...

It's Saturday mornin'
I'm feeling sinking.
Six feet underwater.
Above, the summer blue.

My watch has stopped.
All waterlogged.
It's 3.15.
Forever, still.

Oh these are -
Our summer days,
Languid easy
Under sun, by the sea
These are our winter days
Crisp-cold, the air's
Hot still beneath sheets.

You wake and you ask me,
"How does the time go?"
I say, sir - I don't really know
So let it flow.

Pack your bags and passport
There's a whole world to find
You say you're now falling -
Truth is, so am I.

These are our Summer days
Languid easy
These are our Winter days
Hot still beneath sheets.

I suspect, I suspect
That this too shall pass
Outside I know a world
Filled with plain compromise

So right now, right now
I've only one thing left to ask -

Again?
Again.