When we were young.

Try to get a listen to this.
It'll break your heart.

Fascinating Aida
This Table


This dear old kitchen table bears the scars of
all our celebrations.
It proudly wears its marks and stains like
an old soldier's decorations.
We take our customary places,
self-appointed, not dictated.
And warmly greet familiar faces
in the circle we've created.
Each time we meet the wrinkles show,
the time is passing ever quicker.
But, to each other we still look the same
across the candle's flicker.
Lay one place fewer at the table,
and shuffle up the empty spaces.
We'll talk and smile as best we're able.
Try not to count the missing faces.
Time is a theif who steals our treasure.
Life never gives, it merely lends.
So laugh and cry in equal measure,
and celebrate that we were friends.
The scrubbed and faded grooves have long absorbed
our foolish indescretions.
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
It's heard our quarrels, our rapprochement,
our denials and confessions.
It's heard our trials and tribulations,
our triumphs and our glories.
If only it could speak you'd hear it tell
a thousand secret stories.
It's brought old enemies together,
and will do the same for many another.
For when we sit around the table,
we are forced to face each-other.
Lay one place fewer at the table,
and shuffle up the empty spaces.
We'll talk and smile as best we're able.k
Try not to count the missing faces.
Time is a theif who steals our treasure.
Life never gives, it merely lends.
So laugh and cry in equal measure,
and celebrate that we were friends.
So laugh and cry in equal measure,
and celebrate that we were friends.
 
Try to get a listen to this.
It'll break your heart.

Fascinating Aida
This Table


This dear old kitchen table bears the scars of
all our celebrations.
It proudly wears its marks and stains like
an old soldier's decorations.
We take our customary places,
self-appointed, not dictated.
And warmly greet familiar faces
in the circle we've created.
Each time we meet the wrinkles show,
the time is passing ever quicker.
But, to each other we still look the same
across the candle's flicker.
Lay one place fewer at the table,
and shuffle up the empty spaces.
We'll talk and smile as best we're able.
Try not to count the missing faces.
Time is a theif who steals our treasure.
Life never gives, it merely lends.
So laugh and cry in equal measure,
and celebrate that we were friends.
The scrubbed and faded grooves have long absorbed
our foolish indescretions.
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
It's heard our quarrels, our rapprochement,
our denials and confessions.
It's heard our trials and tribulations,
our triumphs and our glories.
If only it could speak you'd hear it tell
a thousand secret stories.
It's brought old enemies together,
and will do the same for many another.
For when we sit around the table,
we are forced to face each-other.
Lay one place fewer at the table,
and shuffle up the empty spaces.
We'll talk and smile as best we're able.k
Try not to count the missing faces.
Time is a theif who steals our treasure.
Life never gives, it merely lends.
So laugh and cry in equal measure,
and celebrate that we were friends.
So laugh and cry in equal measure,
and celebrate that we were friends.

We have all sorts of characters on our moons surface.
Builders joiners teachers pilots .. even poet laureats.A beautiful composition.
You have now been moved up to number 193 on my all time top favourite poster list Dennis : )

I have just finished the photo collage off.
My mission if I chose to accept was.. to select 18 photos to go in our new Matalan frames and attach them to the wall.
As always, should me or any of our Force be caught or killed the Secretary would disavow any knowledge of our actions.

yP9qltx.jpg
 
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Thank you for sending me your photos Mr Worth.
You looked splendid in your kilt.
I sometimes wish we had a national dress like the Scottish welsh and Irish.
Somewhere along that dusty road to Damascus we lost our sense of identity.

Delving deep in to the archives I came across this photograph.
It would appear that mother found Jesus after we flitted to the hills and I was swiftly sent away to alter boy school for parochial training.
I was nearly ten at the time and fell into my new role with gusto.
My new confirmation name was to be Dominic and our kid was to become brother Damion : /
This compositional set is called Miserable Me by Allegro.
It's hauntingly beautiful and one of my all time favorites.
Happy are those called to the supper.



Front bench right winger.

Vjiy0TO.jpg


We are all free to worship who we wish and I am sadly no longer in his camp.
We never fell out or anything but just ended up going our own ways.
Crom is my new deity.If I die I have to go before him, and he will ask me "What is the riddle of steel?" And if I don't know it he will cast me out of Valhalla and laugh at me! That's Crom .. strong in his mountain !

Feel free to recant any more fond childhood memories.
Or simply allow this thread the good grace to fall back into the dark recesses of time.
Ego vobis valedico.
 
Last edited by a moderator:

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