Can't be bothered with a title

Hello, fucked up sleep pattern, my old friend,
I happen to be bothered with you again....
Because a special someone softly creeping
Also I left Skype online while I was sleeping
The vision of you smiling planted in my brain
Still remains, so does the sound of your heartbeat

In restless dreams I walked alone
Back to the strands of cobblestone
Where we were walking into midnight
Where we were shivering in the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a street-lamp light
That split the night and touched the sound of your heartbeat

And in the daylight then we saw
Ten thousand dickheads, maybe more
Shitheads talking without speaking
(slur) hearing without listening
Mindless writing songs that voices never share
No one dare disturb the sound of your heartbeat

“(slur)” said I, “Them who do not know
Your heartbeat, sounding like a gorgeous drum
Told them, hear my words or I might shake you
Take my arms or I might never wake you”
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of your heartbeat

And the dickheads slowed in their wake
To the fake neon god they parade
And the traffic light flashed out its warning
Morsing the words that I was forming
And the seagull said "The words of our time
Are written on the pavement where we walked
And the waters beneath the pebbly strands
Are whispering still the sound of your heartbeat


Tubbs remarked "Then Thousand Dickheads" would be a proper local title.

For T. ❤