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Smooth Talking

From the Album Weave

Suit and tie made to fit, shoes that say hello
Hands that talk and say out loud
There’s nothing I don’t know
Armani shirt and socks to match
Hair that laughs at wind
Walking tall, seeing all
Leading with his chin

Smooth talking, cool walking, swimming against the tide
Handshaking, wave breaking, there’s nothing that he can’t hide
Smooth talking, cool walking, stealing every show
Quick thinking, unblinking, there’s no place he can’t go

The day is done, the world’s been changed
Some are happy, some are sad
Looking up, it’s hard to see
All that glitters is not bad
Though self-assured, words still hurt
When blind judgements made
Half a story equals none
Misfortune envies the brave


This was supposed to be about a cool dude strutting along the boulevard, but it was hijacked by a rich and powerful businessman. The most annoying thing was, I found myself defending him.

My father was a passionate socialist all his life. He despised capitalism, with Rupert Murdoch being on top of his hit list, but his love of cricket was greater than his hatred of Murdoch. The only way he could watch cricket through the long depressing winter months was by subscribing to Murdoch’s Sky Sports. He held out for a few years until the winters became so unbearable that he broke down and subscribed. His quality of winter life dramatically improved while he sat all day long with a scorecard in hand, following the test matches.

I always try and see both sides of a story, and while I hate corrupt businessmen and bankers as much as the next person, I can’t help thinking that, “all that glitters is not bad.”