I’m going to a seminar!. I’m a genius. A prodigy. A demon at Maths and Science. I’m up for a prize. If you gotta grow up sometime. You’ve to do it on your own. I don’t think I could stand to be stuck. That’s the way that things were going. The bible’s my tool. There’s no mention of school!. My Damascan Road’s my transistor radio. I tune in at night when my mum and my dad start to fight. I put on my headphones. And I tune out. I am devout. The girls are singing about my life. But they’re not here they’ve got the wild life. . If you want to find out find out. You got to look them in the eye. That’s why my only choice. Is find the face behind the voice….. . She asked the man if the service was open. “Not today just the choir from the radio”. “Couldn’t I sit in? I’ve come all this way”. “Will you bugger off I’ve got work to do.”. The city was losing its appeal. God was asleep. He was back in her village in the fields. “Oh if I could make sense of it all!. I wish that I could sing. I’d stay in a melody. I would float along in my everlasting song. What would I do to believe?”