in the city.
past closing time.
trawling along swanston street
cold and tired.
a taxi stops near me. Oh rapture!!
I give him my destination
Like a secret password.
no reason given
The Injustice of it all.
Like a expired metcard through a validating machine.
Unfortunately, not going my way.
Pretty much like how the night is panning out.
For the love of gin what the hell's going on?
This can't go on.
Taxi why have you forsaken me?
Guess I need a beacon in the night.
Like E.T, I phone home.