To a place, where your face
last reflected...

How vital now this day to me,
How altered from its history...

Across the orchard you could hear the sound,
Of love as your mans fist struck the ground...

Into the bowels of Hull city centre
Far, far from the world outside...

Crystal tear I send into the dying dust,
One globe in payment for your love...

Kiss the falling, failing leaves goodbye,
As they desert you on their annual display...

Call by if you should chance remember,
Your invite that fell to the floor...

So altered from that sombre day when first I stood...
Surrounded by the crying, ever needy throng...