Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
In Fulham full of misery
I had a friend, I had a choice:
Two parts in Scotland, offered me...
Remember that time we sat out
With coffee, doing lists?
Filled with contentment and without...
