We remind ourselves frequently that life as it might just be may not turn out to be what we were taught from the crib – grey days and copings with silence and choking down years of upsurging rage. Ah Christ, we both screamed in our own bloody nightmares and Christ, oh he seemed to stay away silent, And we both know the stilling, the chilling, the feeling of years of ‘don’t talk about that till you’re old’. And we both know the crying of tears of rejoicing at leaving those old cares behind, of ‘tell me’s’ and well we just might stay up late tonight might finish off that wine might toast the
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