The shit in the river is different every day.
The sun is up, out and glowering over the muddled Bristol rooftops. Seagulls are arguing about politics in the gables. People are squinting (but mainly with smiling).
I can hear the engines starting up, at last.
July was crap, mind.
Say what you want to say, I'm watching you
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Say what you want to say, I'm watching you