the delayed 3:15

i know this, i've played in this dirt, powdered glass over everything, spray paint swastikas and cocks, coke cans bleached by sun, sir, why here?, in the filthy, fly-tip bramble here, there's cannock bloom and river sun, a mile just down the line, first-class tuts, more coffee, more apologies, pale-faced kids in rubber gloves, dressed as cops outside, i tried to find your name, you didn't make the news, you're just the man whose blues, stopped his heart beneath our shoes