‘You're gorgeous, you old hag, and if I could give you just one gift ever for the rest of your life it would be this. Confidence. It would be the gift of confidence. Either that or a scented candle.’ (One Day, by David Nicholls)
Thinking back now
I suppose you were just stating your views
What was it all for
For the weather or the Battle of Agincourt
And the times that we all hoped would last
Like a train they have gone by so fast
And though we stood together at the edge of the platform
We were not moved by them
With my own hands
When I make love to your memory
It's not the same
I miss the thunder, I miss the rain
And the fact that you don't understand
Casts a shadow over this land
But the sun still shines
From behind it
Thanks all the same
But I just can't bring myself to answer your letters
It's not your fault
But your honesty touches me like a fire
The Polaroids that hold us together
Will surely fade away
Like the love we spoke of forever
On St. Swithin's Day
Really looking forward to this:
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