• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 09
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Douglas, Isle of Man,
I took it with me,
a winter of wanting you.
I carried it,
through the narrow streets
and up to the
Dog's Home.
As I played it,
I half expected
you to walk through the door,
drink in hand,
and that smile you wore,
the one I only saw
in the dark.
I carried it all that week,
to the public houses
and down to the beach;
and when it slowed,
the song became distorted...
and I knew then it was hopeless.
You'd gone: gone forever.
And there were only memories
coming from the cassette player.
I carried it home,
across the grey Irish Sea,
sitting on the top deck, in the rain,
hoping you'd come back
to me