Its a colourful language,
that much is known.
As much as its become,
dependent on a phone.
Now how do I drive it?
how do I call?
Why is there double
authentication and all?
Are we putting,
our details away?
to be used against,
us all one day?
I’ve had to admit,
in learning a lot.
From watching the hands,
Change on a clock.
Its a bloody disgrace,
a friggin shame.
That some people suffer,
yet deserve much more pain.
Instead they get to,
enjoy their money.
spash it about.
And after the next honey.
If we’re not bloody careful,
they commandeer it.
Use it against us,
and stay out of shit.
I’m telling you now,
That they’ll be no peace.
Till we all learn to let rest,
And look after our feets.
Now I cant be sure,
Its maybe my eyes.
But the picture you see,
gave me inspires.
Theres a lot of blue,
and a lot of green.
but the yellow is up there.
contained in the dreams.
Its the red,
that stand on out.
Its at the top,
where boys blouses pout.
Its bloody,
its vivid.
Its bold
and its lipid.
When would you try,
to revere a bloody sky.
At the end of the day,
When it dips in the bay.
If you catch a glipse,
from the right location.
bringing about
a divine commotion.
With peaceful thoughts,
and respectful feelings.
I might say gidday you,
“How you reel’n”,