Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Lonely Stretch-Australian Gothic

I took a wrong turn off of an unmarked track
I did seven miles I couldn't find my way back
Hit a lonely stretch, must be losing my touch,
I was out of my depth
Land was so flat, could well have been ocean
No distinguishing feature in any direction
I took her down inch-by-inch to the floor
And I pointed her nose through a crack in the door
Fingering my sliver St Cristopher
and saving my empty shells for her
When night closed in up around my neck
My high beam dug deep into the black
And a shiver broke out up and down my back
Yes a shiver broke out up and down my back
Well I could have been mistaken
But I swear that I caught something in my headlights
on that cold night, without another living thing in sight
Without another living soul in sight
the Triffids
Kangaroos hanging around ready for bisque.