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Canterbury Trails Simon Martin Ross Bainbridge, me and Charlie Rhodes Drillbit Taylor A company of electrical engineers Bad Feng Shui Club Chemistry I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed There's a fire alarm fault somewhere in the gaff Canterbury NatWest Mark at CEF Daz Westerman matty 0 John McNicholl We saw the job through Canterbury Cathedral Canterbury Cathedral

Canterbury Trails

In the summer of 2015 out of the blue
An opportunity appeared to further careers
Keep the wolves from the door pay off tax arrears
Failure is not an option if we are to restore the golden years

Harnessing all the energy and collective experience we could muster
No time for small talk plenty for bluster
Working nights away from home has lost some of its gloss
But the lure of filthy lucre lost none of its lustre
We are going darn sarf to the garden of England on an 8 week project
Hoping for general success not General Custer

To keep ourselves in jobs we formed angry mobs
So me, Simon Martin and Charlie Rhodes
Went forward into battle with drill bit Taylor our Napoleonic boss
Together we are a brotherhood of likeable rogues
A company of electrical engineers getting paid to give a toss

Chose to enlist persist co-exist
In rented accommodation where love it don’t live
3 dimensional curves in a world of twist
Shouting out quotes from The Exorcist
The power of the risen one defies the laws of physics

Each have a room eat convenience food
All share a house with bad feng shui
But it is the only one available in the immediate vicinity
So we’ll just have to make do
Unfinished sympathy I have taken up the recovery position
On the other side of the gloom

Incognito in too deep all my blankets in a heap
A suburban robot that monitors reality pretending I’m not me
A self-loathing self-pitying little creep
Sat here alone charging my phone wondering what kind of clientele frequent the Club Chemistry

Who will rid me of this turbulent priest
that made a desert called it peace
When the coin in the coffer rings the soul from limbo springs
The pardoners take money to stave off the beast
The peasants are revolting in death they are released
I have travelled from ye olde Leodis to haunt these medieval streets
A daemon to appease

Severe mental test unidentified flying Chaucer’s overhead
Which came first the chicken or the egg
I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed
12 hour shifts a microwave meal then straight back to bed
Beating myself up for being easily led

Component parts broken hearts conduit and tray
Wage slaves from rival trades must negotiate a way
Put aside our differences try cooperate
To ensure completion by the given date
Because the fear of class action punitive sanctions are too severe to contemplate

Schrodinger’s cat brain in a vat what’s it like to be a bat?
There’s a fire alarm fault somewhere in this gaff
It’s 4 in the morning yawning has broken
Too much pressure understaffed
Northern monkeys here to suffer no doubt about that
No refuge in the kessel from the massive attack

Traffic wardens prowling the streets
Strictly enforcing edicts of the powers that be
The pilgrims fall silent read them and weep
The natives are restless the seagulls don’t sleep
The homeless huddle in shop doorways trying to compete
With wandering minstrels wannabe Joe Strummers
And vagabond drummers that seldom skip a beat

Operation Stack
The M20 has ground to a halt
Swarms of economic migrants refuse to turn back
But I don’t worry myself with pulp fiction when presented as fact
Keep myself busy coping with dizzy my head is spinning
Trying to keep my faculties together
And multiple personalities intact

The thought of hiding in a refrigerated articulated vehicle for long duration
In complete darkness with five inches of face space slowly freezing to death
Fills me with dread
Makes me break out in ice cold claustrophobic sweat
Inducing nightmarish visions I would much rather forget

Empty motorways long night time drives
Dartford Tunnel state of mind
Appreciating this great nation’s engineering feats infrastructure
Street furniture and skilful enterprise
Grateful to Angela Elaine for logistical support digs organised
And valuable contributions given by Ross Bainbridge at critical times

A big shout out to Mark at CEF
Reference Natwest always gave of his best
Toothy grin stubbly chin where’s flip flop? he’d ask in jest
In snatched conversations we discovered a mutual likeness for dance music
DJ EZ did the rest

Where are you boys heading next?
Sittingbourne or Maidstone
Teaming up with Super Mario Daz Westerman and evil genius Matty O
But we haven’t had official confirmation yet cho
He said take care boys seez yer laters bros
Each in turn we shook his hand wished him all the best
Then the 3 amigos took the exit left

When you’re in a pickle call John McNicholl
It’s party time and any old hubris will do
We have gathered in the Carpenters Arms hidden from view
Sat drinking beer stood playing pool
Toasting the success of the rock steady crew
Finished on time we saw the job through
It’s a fine line between triumph and defeat
Medway between the two

In the grounds of the Cathedral I sat awhile each day
Said a prayer for you
Because to whisper holy words under my breath is all that I can do
Together we witnessed the collapse of the old order
And the shock of the new
My dear Ave Maria work saveth this man
But it sure is a big scary world without you

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