STEP OF THE NIGHT TRAIN:
Rinse the head in rain, let the bones soak up a chill.
Breathe wind coloured by the perfume of new life,
exit the blues, greys & stains of interior trains.
There’s a pensive stoop, a hang-dog crumple to the
cut of cloth, a rinsed look in the eye. Averting the
gaze of the crazy yell obscenities to a phone. Watching
his muscles jerk reflected in black glass wrapped around us,
clear carriages with a violent mouth. I take another
swig of juice, slip the in-ears turn up the groove
& drift to the rhythm of bedroom lights.
(K)

A day after I stepped of the last night train with the lunatic, who wanted to eat my soul, I was lying in hotel room in Hamburg, half dead after a food poisoning, tried to collect my energy for a bouncing concert and a meet & greet.
Years later I came to a place where it was almost impossible to rinse the head in rain,

where me and this mother of a dog could only groove & drift to the rhythm of the sea 🙂

Seriously Karl, the Mother Of A Dog is amazing! The piece direct after the verse is the best sound I have heard in a long time.
Thank you!