Scattered Black And Whites

<br>Been climbing trees I`ve skinned my knees<br>My hands are black the sun is going down<br>She scruffs my hair in the kitchen steam<br>She`s listening to the dream I weaved today<br>Crosswords through the bathroom door<br>While someone sings the theme-tune to the news<br>And my sister buzzes through the room leaving perfume in the air<br>And that`s what triggered this.<br>I come back here from time to time<br>I shelter here some days.<br><br>A high-back chair. He sits and stares<br>A thousand yards and whistles<br>Marching-band (Boom-ching)<br>Kneeling by and speaking up<br>He reaches out and I take a<br>Massive hand. Disjointed tales<br>That flit between short trousers<br>And a full dress uniform<br>And he talks of people ten years<br>Gone like I`ve known them all my life<br>Like scattered black `n` whites….