BY IKENWA ASHIBUOGWU NNABUOGOR
Rhythms, sounds, beats groove the party back to Spain
Not the weapons of war but the geometry of chance, a fresh seeking one in the sun of Spain
He’s searching for the shape of his heart, shape skewed in England
Perhaps he might find it to cool the last minute tough vibes that blow his london last existence no good
His troubles too big for the big black London cabs to ferry over but the familiar Spain he hopes to find a calm
The Yellow submarines welcome the former last Moor but still in the deep waters of the Mediterranean
Still keeping the outside chance of annexing territories in modern Spain
The Moor may not lead a killer squad to upset the Apple’s cart of perennial title contenders
Against the ships led by the Admirals of the Fleet of Barcelona and Real Madrid and maybe, Atlético Madrid
He may just have to party away to cool his bad London head
For how long? Two years he signs up with Yellow submarines might just one to keep the submarine floating
And then party a bit to Partey on
London may be better… in the long run
Who knows?
Meanwhile, welcome to the Yellow submarines!
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