The Girl in the black dressOn a darkened evening the heavens opened,Unleashing its entirity upon us without a care,I peered out the window in unfathomable solice,At the girl in the short black dress,You came over too look over my shoulder,At the water-coloured painting set before us,Why do you look at her with such helplessness? you ask,I watch in hope to see her move, sway or even smile,But the thing that saddens me most about this beautiful picture,Is that the water on her face isnt just rain,But a mixture of glistening tears for noone to catch,So i wait at the window in dire hope,For the one who shes waiting for to return,Until then the girl will never move,Forever alone and uncontrolably crying,With only the rain as her comforting lullaby.
The Stig - Some of his factsSome say . . .He doesnt sleep he just waitsThat he doesnt sleep laying down but upside down like a batThat he can't get onto im a celebrity because he is oneHe is wanted by the CIAHis Earwax tastes like Turkish DelightHis skin has the texture of dolphinsHe can melt concrete on contactHis favourite food is raw meatHe has a digital faceHe has a swivelling headWhen he exhales, argon comes outwhen he blinks, you can hear a noice like a camera shutterNoone knows what the LEDs on his neck meanYou need to squirt his armpit with WD40 every six months (or every 5,000 miles, whichever is sooner)Both his hearts have variable valve timingHis elbow bends the wrong wayHe can only digest meat. And rocksThey arent gloves, his hands really look like thatHis buttocks are the same spec as the tiles on the bottom of the space shuttleOne of his knees seems to attract catsOne of his legs are hydraulicWhen he walks his feet make a sort of wah wah guitar noiseHe has a group of freckles