They stood there all of the time, waiting…
For something, anything to happen
Softening their eyes courtesy of pretty schoolgirls who devilishly decide to walk on by
A silent cigarette down by their side
To settle the doubts, any signs of momentary fret
Charming with mounds upon mounds of wit about them, seriously sound foundations in the beginning
Eerily disarming
Although thinning now, the longer they would continue to play this waiting-game
Never regretting what it is they might like to say
A couple of strays getting invited in, always and forever
Then there was the monstrous gang leader, name’s Trevor – ferociously exact
Beer in his hand – Tyskie – making sure to cover his every single track
Right back to the underage offie on the other corner, managed by a bell-end
Albeit completely money-driven
Everyone makes their own decisions