Come the dusk, to the day’s past nostalgia
Waking late on a floor in Morningside’s heart
Climb aboard a bicycle, ride the small morning hours
Between the street lights, where Wellington Point reaches
To sit in the night sounds, just listening to The Bay.
Come flow night’s ink, the day’s wane to nostalgia
Getting dressed, a small room on Annerley’s Emperor
Out to walk the evening, just a quarter-mile to the ole theatre
Canvas seats fill with conversations, lost in an evenings laughter
When then a short flicker, A Clockwork Orange begins.
Now the evening wind picks up, as dark crawls through nostalgia
Those days in league to places, live music venues now gone
An empty train to the city, or a ride to some small place down The Coast
The companions to conversation, music days some to remember the most
Too the lyrics some notes, the sound escapes through loud quiet spaces.
In all the days to remember, in those times to walk in the rain
Listen to nostalgia’s distances, the short long songs they play.