Yes, there is still a hankering after greatness, if I’m honest.
A childhood’s love affair with superheros…is that where this all started?
Will I be a superhero someday, Daddy?
But driving back home to Bristol after a client meeting
Aged 38 with a life that I could write out on a piece of notepaper
The fact was very clear.
I am never going to be famous.
And something died…the lie of it all, the impossibility.
I didn’t weep but I dreamt a pleasant dream of weeping
As I slowed down to traffic lights
With the engine’s hum beneath it all
The fame of being as bright as the light off those sun-filled puddles.
Constant Voice 