"In the practice of tolerance, one's enemy is the best teacher"
The subtle taste of grape drink mixed with cough medicine and the pungent odour of sickly sweet half finished beers
You may as well play now, the old schoolyard will soon be sold and turned into an office block
When we start walking our pets on the moon, the flags will all look the same
Today always stays afraid of yesterday, even though yesterday had no idea tomorrow was today
So with our heads held aloft, noses to the sky, we acknowledge and disregard our miserable history for what it was
A time in our life when the dishes piled high, when we thought every girl we met was the one, a simpler time, when the idiot box was only for when we were stoned.