One trip a year is enough
Trisha shouts through wet ears
Her candyfloss lips go on and on
The front seat on the ghost train is free
But i will leave that for the old gent
He was 81 last Friday
No fuss was made
His wife ran off with a window cleaner from Chester
Trisha looks at me
Through wet eyes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem