Silent storms upon a land of rock
Leaves all intention in the wake
Of a storm that went through
Seemingly love is the most still
When we don’t think of it.
Yet upon the land lies Corcomroe
Which is always where we laid our hearts.
I touch the stone outside
It reminds me of loft you rented
The one is Glasgow
That you hated.
Now laid up in Carluke
Waiting for something different
Maybe not me
But we will always have Corcomroe.