the box whalley range no marks you've drawn a blank once again the yellowstains remind theres a gun and a bottle in the morning old mad annie n a 4 pack of the brew breakfast in mind cracked open like rotten eggs cold sun on the grey glass yer know yer shouldnt throw stones my skin feels like milky leather medication markers swallow the day the spanish waiter has the box next door he's lived there since franco called it a day, his wardrobe impeccable l972 the twins from Leeds pace the l-shaped room resting actors don't you know united 4.4O saturdays to a little tinny tune a strange desperation belies their sickening state "One day we'll go back to Leeds" synchronised and a little hrumph and a smirk shadowin. this place has been awaiting the axe to swing (the birds will swing) it's funereal style dictates our state of mind the tree outside shrinks a cold shock of daylight and disappears, the blackground beneath radiates atomic waste i know mr clockwork tick tocks across a blur of boxes belching post industrial smoke y know i'm lookin now high up on this long metal box a personal emptiness sits next to us human freight every one of us clockwatchers then time is frozen sorrows this man has been driving this bus for thirty one years five months before that he worked insecurity i'm just on my way back to the box now away from the liquid screens and the hotpoint queens and the territorials holdin their own in office the customer screams so we file her away like we do every day theres forms to fill in to categorise callibrate our dysfunction people to put away technopoly today and forever n ever as the desksitting beckons alien thought from you to me never understand you never understood me so i stared into space there was nothing to say so back to the box and the box coronation streeted and brooksided noel nicesweater n the family gang just to show you what life can be like time for a fishtank or a toy jack in the box it"s becoming harder now to leave the box as faces dissolve to strange thunderbird lubricates the senses and finally fizzle out to the weekend which lasts 36 hours precisely including the money programme and going live oh n the telly years n a socio economic breakdown of heinz beans advertising n you need some drugs to elucidate what the fucks going on things stay square shaped though the edges are softer a plant in the corner snuffs it light breaks thru the piss yellow nets wilting against the glass nervous n wreckless spirit n i want to break into heaven laid a stomach pump for your sins n psychokinetic energy destroyed there's a party going on tho in the biggest box Trever celebrates his 38th year with the local schoolchildren and his mum she makes him sleep on the setee i've seen his wristwatch it shows jesus lyin on the cross he's the caretaker at the church they invite me down little faces push up against my legs and he invites me to hear his darts singles he bought at woolies the smell detonates in my brain and something seems not quite right walkin thru the door is like flippin a switch on my tv monitor the colour bleeds out into a dirty sepia the sound is wrapped up in cotton wool everything gains a certain softness it is a soft very flat dream this house the landlord has the right to buy more of these places and he has inhabited another box only 3 blocks away there there was a man who papered his wall with crunchie bar wrappers he would pick them up off the street when i wasn't looking there i managed to appropriate a twenty six inch remote control job a studio flat the paper said the space was white on plaster i had dreams of manchester dissolve in that very spot the week ben johnson failed his drug test it said on channel 3 there were some strange things happening ickie n billy visited one night they cased the box i was unawares met them in the sports bar a 7Os brickhouse then christmas day they cleared me out n dispossessed awarded me televiz freedom for a while...still fucking lookin out