Plastic Stars

Claire McKay & Louis Abbott

My son, I can’t give you into trouble
It’s funny but I don’t feel I’ve got the right
To scold, to hold you too tight

Young ones, I’m afraid I’m away for a while
I’m sure I’ll be fine but will you? The unlucky ones on the outside

I’ll find time to rehearse what to say and what not to say

Constellations, maps made out of light
Count my lucky plastic stars that you’re on the line
We fill white spaces, Illuminate the night
Dark doesn’t matter when you’re by my side

“What kind of people live in there?” you quizzed
and lifted my spirits

Hope, Clichés on the wall
Fake sun on my skin, former champion
The dancers, the laughter in the halls

And yet I haven’t seen the moon for months
Just primary colours and cherry vapour
And no metaphors for love

I’ll find time to rehearse what to say
What to delete and save

Constellations, maps made out of light
Count my lucky plastic stars that you’re on the line
We fill white spaces, Illuminate the night
Dark doesn’t matter when you’re by my side

Please don’t forget us

My son, I can’t give you into trouble