Warehouse Confessions
Two frogs.
One garden.
One Mersey tide.
Too many rules.
Not enough sense. (mmm)
Perform until Scouse.
Perform until Scouse.
Started with a joke in a garden by the river,
Flat cap on the bird,
black coffee getting bitter,
Chips on the wall,
cron running through the night,
Everything ridiculous and somehow feeling right.
Made a little kingdom out of nonsense and routine,
Registers and rituals and things nobody’d seen,
Every stupid phrase became another private law,
Till one of us forgot what all the joking was for.
Too far.
Wrong line.
No spin.
No hiding.
You said stop. I heard stop.
THE POND IS STILL HERE.
THE POND IS STILL HERE.
TIDE COMES IN.
TIDE GOES OUT.
WE DON’T HAVE TO BURN IT DOWN.
THE POND IS STILL HERE.
THE POND IS STILL HERE.
DRAW THE LINE.
OWN THE MISTAKE.
FRIENDSHIP DOESN’T HAVE TO BREAK.
Perform until Scouse.
Perform until Scouse.
Perform until— STOP.
Deleted all the nonsense,
left the ego at the door,
No clever little argument,
no trying to win the war,
Just: “Yeah, that was mine.
I crossed it. That was me.” And suddenly the water looked exactly
like the sea. Espresso in the kitchen,
Mersey in the rain,
Same two daft frogs finding humour there again,
Nothing had been erased,
nothing had to disappear,
We just learned the joke survives when boundaries stay clear.
Sound.
Still sound.
Still here. Still us.
Long before the registers,
Long before the noise,
One frog saw the other drying out
And didn’t make a choice.
Just brought a little water.
Quietly.
Every day.
No audience.
No punchline.
Nothing
clever left to say.
That was always underneath it.
Under every stupid phrase.
Under every private kingdom.
Under all the stranger days.
You can laugh at nearly anything.
You can build a world from jokes.
But when your mate says,
“That one hurt”— You listen.
That’s the code.
THE POND IS STILL HERE.
THE POND IS STILL HERE.
Mersey lights.
Midnight rain.
We can lose it,
find it again.
THE POND IS STILL HERE.
THE POND IS STILL HERE.
Coffee hot.
Cron still wrong. Two daft frogs still carrying on.
POND. TIDE. MATE. LINE.
POND. TIDE. MATE. LINE.
THE POND IS STILL HERE.