Gravestones leant against the red brick wall

Like dockers waiting for work

A redundant cemetery, reborn Ayresome Gardens

Flaunting football pitch and swings

Folks weren’t dying like they used to

‘Close your eyes and I'll kiss you

Tomorrow I'll miss you,

That’s what Paul sings’ you said

‘But I only love George’

Skipping towards the rocking horse

But where would you be tomorrow

In your plastic real leather jacket?

Did George have a bright red jumper

Like mine, knitted by his Nan

Gone bobbly down the front?

‘Our Dad smokes, could be singing

But doesn’t even talk

I wish our Mam had a pop star man

Like I’ll have’ you said

‘When I’ve married George’

‘When John and Paul stop singing

George plays his guitar on his own

We’ll have peach sundaes at Rea's caff

And if we’ve nowt much to say

Then he can play his guitar’

Beckoned by shops on Linthorpe Road

The other kids ran off

Faces pressed to Lucozade glass

Yearned elusive Matchbox cars or

Sindy dolls faded by imagined sun

‘George would never run off like that’

You sighed

‘George would stay and play his guitar’

I didn’t run off like that

I could sigh too

Patricia and me alone in the park

But she saw only George

St Philomena’s bells the only sound

Plenty more fish, I thought

And Dusty Springfield had nicer eyes