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Encounter (Road Kill)

from Here There Be Demons by The Crows Of Albion

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about

Based on an incident that happened a few years ago whilst crossing the M62/Pennines from Wigan to Wakefield in the winter. Drivers taking no heed of the conditions, aggressively pulling close to your rear bumper, giving the range of hand gestures as they passed. There was an accident further on – not sure if it was on of the road rager’s who had crossed me – but the demon on my shoulder whispered that it ought to be…

lyrics

Encounter (Road Kill).

A black crow struts down the central reservation,
pecking at the remnants of undefined road-kill.
The white dotted line stretches out forever –
reminds me of the perforated slip on a tax form –
something that’s required but causes great effort
to tear along regardless, and sod the consequence.

A lemon-curd sandwich, parked in the lay-by,
switches on its camera and zooms for a close-up.
I glance at the dials and press on the brake pedal –
even though I’m under the legal requirement
a pang of guilt eats its way into my conscience
and many miles later I’m still checking in the mirrors.

Steve Earle blasts from the in-car CD,
tells me of the trials of travelling The Highway
in sun-bleached Memphis where the black-top’s melting –
while here on the Pennines the sleet is falling.
My mind is out there on a black and silver Harley,
not cooped up in a Nissan with a whistling windscreen.

A red BMW pulls up to my bumper,
its lights ablaze and tyres screaming.
His hands don’t seem to be in contact with the wheel –
one tugs at the hair, while the other is waving,
erect middle digit thrust in the air –
the universal badge of a brain-dead schizo.

I subtly avoid his bulging eyeballs,
veins that stand out like worms on a mirror.
He wants to hurt me, to torture and kill me
for being in the way of his manic agenda -
and as he hurtles by, doing ninety miles an hour,
I switch on the wipers and slash away his slush.

The overhead signs demand I slow to thirty,
roadworks ahead and hazardous conditions.
Despite all the warnings, some will not listen.
As I draw closer, I’m not surprised to see
his burnt rubber path clearly visible -
leading to a blazing, crimson coffin.

credits

from Here There Be Demons, released September 30, 2015
WORDS: Ian Whiteley
MUSIC: Martin Heaton

license

all rights reserved

tags

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