The evening was bright, with the sun goin down, i am treading across the country to destination Lios. i guess it should be lis, with a fada over the i; anyhow where there is now two roundabouts there once was a straight road, and the drummer of a band opened up a garage, He was eventually allowed to sell petrol.
Now its a string of garages, all competing for business, and as the cars pull in and out to fill up, across the road are fields and fields of cars, awaiting to be sold, but selling now is not possible;
And thats funny, because when we really were poor, i mean poor post famine, those same fields yielded good crops, and earned money, now the people who have nothing to do with those fields, and certainly don’t own them, have to pay through other ways.
Slan Go Foil.
