Knockin on Heaven’s Door – poem from the darklands

Sittin here listening to Eric
In my battered old 50s rockin chair
My discman gives it to me just how I like it
Loud and surround in my ear

Off in the distance past the neighbours
The poplars whisper the winds symphony
As spirit blows cross the papa
There’s a storm brewin, sweepin up country

Eric’s started blowing harp in my head
And knockin on the door of the dead
Trying to keep it together, through this killer storm weather
A battle that fills me with dread

The CDs now on Guns N Roses
As the evening air touches my skin
And the cloud’s rolling in from the west
Like a woollen cloak being pulled cross the heavens

Now Axle starts knockin on the door
As only he knows how to do
He sings it, I live it
Trying that door to break through

Oh God when are they gunna listen
Their ears are so closed to our pain
The voice of those traumatised and poor
Writhing in pain, writhing in pain

The light is starting to fade……

Knock knock knockin on heaven’s door
Knock knock knockin on heaven’s door
Knock knock knockin on heaven’s door

enD

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