Tarmac is a lovely word.
I want to say something about, the cracked tarmac road bumping and the worry of bike breaking and brakes and cars whooshing past and how when I'm riding along all the things I think of, how it feels to ride at night, how it makes me angry when the wind blows in my face, or if I'm angry or happy I pedal faster push push push. How I think of her, so when I'm there, it's not like I'm really there at all sometimes.
Goodnight, my love, goodnight
Away off into the dark sky
Blister on the horizon, darkling fly
Across the town under the lights
Wind in my face and cars at my side
Tuned into songs at eventide
Feet to flinting floor I'm bound
Crossing miles of blackened ground
Whistling between the western winds
Threats dispersed, intended to singe
The night's glazed with your face and arms
Enfolding me pistonlegged homewards.
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