Stung

Written and performed by Rob Kent
Recorded and mixed by Ciaran Thurlow

Smoke billowed up the Garda’s nostrils
As I hesitantly cracked the car window
Through the haze he spied the glaze
Attributed to the stench he’s educated to know

Disregarding the faulty tail-light
Which was cause for him to pull me in
He perceived me in a fresh light
Which fast grew dim

With just a grunt and sharp tilt of his head
In the direction opposite to mine
He suggested I alight my transport
With obedience I wasted no time

In the knowledge any pleas would fall short
I stored my words where they’d not go to waste
He slid from his breast pocket his notepad
In which to document my case

With “Name and address, please?” he began his barrage
If my thoughts had been straighter I’d have not said “Rob Kent”
Passing headlights glared at my sting on parade
Not privy to the details of my luck being spent

With my lamh’s on the bonnet and pins split wide
In anticipation of his investigation of my person
My thoughts trailed off to what lay inside
My ass pocket and boot that I was cursin’

Having patted me down with clearly not enough care
He questioned,”Mind if I search the car?”
My stupid retort, “Do I have a choice?”
He took as me raising the bar

“Lose the attitude”, he growled in his fresh enraged tone, I’d spurred his determination
Such glee in his face when he popped the trunk to see
I’d buds enough to bong out a nation

No moral but this: Don’t blaze while you cruise, Your tail-light might give you away
Don’t fly your flag like you’ve nothing to lose, I lost my freedom that day

I’m stung, Neck is rung, Song is sung, Trod in dung, Bitten tongue, Phlegm in lung, Stung