Old Man’s Shoes – 01/10/1996

9:09

Radio 4 Call Nick Ross

Distort.

Old man’s shoes. Old man’s shoes. I’m getting all grey wearing old man’s shoes. Cigarettes and coffee change my pace, leaves me wound up with what I’ve got to face. the day walks on, my mind’s gone back to bed, all of mydreams stay locked inside my head.

9:22

Ten minutes on. My thoughts are astray. the radio man takes my line away. The lady in my life has taken my children to school and I sit and key-tap like a lost old fool. My day gets arranged, parts for a car, walking intotown to sort the business machine, nothing for something makes me feel unclean. Fags get rolled, coffee gets made, money gets spent and the bills get paid. Old man’s shoes. Old man’s shoes. I’m getting grey and worth less wearing old man’s shoes.

9:31

Seductive filth. The radio’s line. Politics and honesty make my dreams fade. Northern Irish sadness, money and plans. Interviewing ruthlessness- eviscerate the man. My old, old shoes fit me better than the collars of the radio men. There’s a juvenile sitting inside this skin wondering what to do about the world it is in. I can walk this way, I can walk theirs. I wish there was a cleaner path that allowed my mind to clear. My old man’s shoes fit me better every time I look.

9:40

Round and round in circles. Dizzy with the dance. I’ve had opportunities and I’ve had the chance to change the way this world works, to make the day less grey. I’ve sat and thought for far too long and thrown it all away. My shoes walk to the kettle, the current adds the heat, I turn round and sit back down in my old man’s swivel seat. I tap the keys and listen to the radio’s droning tone- BA and Burt, politics and reportage chewed into a mess, downright lies and offices, elections and the rest, Ghandi and respectfulness, Brighton and it’s conferences. Round and round the radio talks and nothing gets done. Next week, next year, a decade further on. The people change,get older, the discussion lingers on. Tune in 2023 and hear it carry on.

9:58

Deja vous. Old man’s shoes. My lady’s back from taking the little ones to school. It’s time to join in. My old man’s shoes are just that. A pair of old man’s shoes.

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