In truth there can be no real excuse br for the actions of the black sheep br But to use that label is too enable br oneself to destroy and yet feel cheated. br br There are memories most are dark br the contrast of midnight wailings br and buttercup picking on a Folkstone br hilltop chisel this heart some more. br br And as history repeats itself we br watch the speeding train of regret- br unstopable, it mocks us when passing. br br In the distance as feet sink into br sand, A father battles the inevitable- br building a sand dam for his delighted br children- this mind is elswhere. br br Tiny fingers grip older more fragile br hands. Dear children I wish not to br misdirect you but these words are br written in the blackened blood of a br age old family name. br br Follow your heart, keep hold of your br goodness, Love is permanent, br Relationships are not.