So long ago, I don't remember when | That's when they say I lost my only friend | Well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease | As I listened through the cemetery trees
Earlier this evening, on a drive out to Mitchell's Plain along the M5 and N2, I saw two wrecks (one on the way out and one on the way in). One involved what looked to be a drunken driver and, in the other, several people were either injured or killed when their cars collided while negotiating a construction bottleneck.
Police had arrived at both scenes, but I was fearful of using my camera as my vheicle's not roadworthy and I had a hash-head in the back.
Having made it through the carnage and back on to the M5, I saw some of the worst driving I've come across in thirty years on the road. High-speed tailgating (a two-foot following distance) in high-density, fast-moving traffic and, in another case, weaving wherein those passed virtually had their headlights shaved.
Death was riding the roads tonight.
But we are Capetonians and today is Sunday. We are tough and resourceful; we are quite used to car wrecks and, absent a proficient police force, couldn't give a damn.
I seen the sun comin' up at the funeral at dawn | The long broken arm of human law | Now it always seemed such a waste | She always had a pretty face | So I wondered how she hung around this place
Indeed. There are also many good things to be found in this Godforsaken town. You just have to know where to find them.
Hey, come on try a little | Nothing is forever | There's got to be something better than | In the middle | But me and Cinderella | We put it all together | We can drive it home | With one headlight
The Wallflowers | One Headlight
