Remains

• well myself and somebody else and somebody else
• and tosses his guts back into his body / then he's carted off in the back of a lorry
• end of story except not really / his blood shadow stays on the street
• sleep, and he's probably armed, possibly not / dream and he's torn apart by a dozen rounds / and the drink and drugs won't drown him out
• he's here in my head when I close my eyes / dug in behind enemy lines / not left for dead is some distant sun-stunned sand smothered land / or six feet under in desert sand
• but near to the knuckle here and now / his bloody life in my bloody hands