(Difford/Tilbrook)
Donkey talk
I can hear the donkey talk
Words chained out in a line
Loads of reason not much rhyme
Finger drumming beats behind
Donkey talk most of the time
The conversation peters out
So you stare down at your shoes
There's not much more to talk about
When the silence is confused
Then our eyes suddenly meet
And we choose to look away
That's just where we are today
There's no sense in hanging round
But we stand there all the same
You find a verb I pluck a noun
As the patience starts to strain
Then our words suddenly clash
As if there's so much to say