Saturday night, seduction in the suburbs, not sex in the city.

In The Back Row

It was way back when they still had « double divans » in the back row at the « flicks » and it was cheap enough to go twice ; once for the film and the second time round, with yer girl. You wouldn’t really bother much about the film.

And when the last credits rolled off the screen, and the lights went up and the manager came round checking that no one was hiding, to stay in for another fling, we had to move our passions to another place.

I’ve forgotten how many seedy snack bars or greasy burger joints we got chucked out of.

« Your behaviour is annoying my other customers. » That was the standard line, and the cue for us lovebirds to find a new nest – A shop doorway – piss stink, rubbish filled and often a drunk collapsed in the corner or some poor old dosser just trying to bed down for the night.

We’d hold each other close and kiss like « star crossed lovers » Love so strong. Love so passionate, love divine, we would cling on to each other like clinging on to life self – love eternal, until the last bus.I’ve really got to get a car.

NO BACK SEAT PASSION JERKS

We stand

feet -to- feet,

Exchanging passions

In the street.

Out of sight

A door-to-door creep,

Heavy petting

Where all the dossers sleep

 

‘Cos

We went too far

In the Wimpy bar

And I’m still saving

For a car.

No backseat

Passion jerks for us.

Just high street antics,

As we wait for my bus.

For my romantic antics in Croydon