We don’t seem to be setting fire to this place anymore
I’ve been creatively thinking and it’s all been a little left-of – like rain in the summertime
We’ve pushed and we’ve shoved yet just nothing seems to be working
How’s about we divulge, tuck on in that bit more?
Pour when least expected
They will no doubt eventually come in the entirety of their stained tail-between-their-legs droves, genuflect ’til that bohemian respect cannot go unnoticed anymore
Suppose we close off our rather clandestine surroundings – pound these flavour-filled puddles one at a perilous time, smother their terrifically excited faces again in a harsher than reality
Supernatural, if you might like

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