Tuesday 5 June 2007

run for the hills

The Paragon is a ghostly place
It creaks and shivers
like deco should.
Fills my head with 78's
and dusty tunes.
Windows bluffed by snow machines
and tasty treats.
I churn back time.

Behind the shopfront
there is a grandeur.
A chocolate factory and a bakery.
Boxes of photos and old invoice books.
Parasoul girls give me black and white looks.
And wise green machinery,
rust filled and murky
once whirred for the noblest
from Old Sydney Town.

Now I haven't been there for years
But I used to go every day......
Poured the coffee and cooked the eggs.
And out the back
there's an old school ballroom
with a mirrored bar that'll take
your breath away.
In the 1920's they danced till dawn.
Some of the old boho's still visit the ballroom,
even though they've been dead for decades.

Never fully believed that stuff
till I saw it myself.
Standing there in his red buttoned coat
Like some lord of the realm ......
But there he was....
as I ate my lunch.
Plain as day.

The Paragon is a ghostly place.