Well it needed to happen, that is for sure
The eagle has flown
But there's blood at his door
And as he does roam
There's the rub I am poor
But rich to have a home in The old Silvermore
The kestrel flew down to my hand
But quickly I saw he was a friend
And we talked like two hawks
Of life and our work
As we walked out over paths wend
And the places we knew were many
In the hearts chapters we dropped a penny
Down the well of memory
To hear it echo what you meant to me
And I can hear your voice still
Ringing through the years
And she flew like a siren call
Like a screech through blood boiling skies
And it took a wrecking ball
To knock down all the cloud castles where I lie
And if there is some bird I must let fly
It is that of your ghost
Feather bed where I lie
Make a nest for my last post
But I cannot accept that I quit
Through this artificial bull shit
For Brexit is a lie, the truth is goodbye
Is hardest to say when you really mean it
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