THE BOYS:
The Boys are casually smoking, corralled, enclosures of
sunlit pavements cling beneath the overhang of green glass
city towers. Heads shaved, shirts out, collars splayed,
jeans are turned a blind eye. All points of the compass,
staring off into the distance, no contact, nor conversation.
I breath their carcinogenic breath in passing, moving swift
down rat runs, cut throughs, pristine alleys, trawling shoals
of tattooed fish, cave art drifting through dappled light
on builder’s swaggered arms.
(K)
Karl Hyde 
Just watched your performance on Later for the 20th time, utterly epic, download the Album, truly inspirational piece of work….