this world
wrong world
i been sent to the wrong world
they abandoned me here as bloody punishment
i look around...surely this aint my world
i knew it right from the start
waiting for my mother or father to tell me
"son, you done come to the wrong world"
good god
what is this...?
a penal colony for clowns
are you seriously telling me
that in all of america
the best guy the GLOPs could find was johnny mccain
if thats really true.....
in all the united states
they came up with him?
am i awake or dreaming?
has something gone wrong somehow somewhere?
where do i protest at this absurdity?
at the same time
rock band ac/dc are playin' to 40,000 people in chicago
imagine in 1983
if someone had shown me a crystal ball
and said kilbey
thou shalt behold the future of rock in twenty five years time
and you gasp with anticipation
and briefly you imagine all the weird n wonderful things 2008 will hold
the kinda futuristic boogie them future cats will be laying down
you look deep into the ball
something begins to materialize..through the glass darkly
oh no
you shudder
you laugh bitterly
you wince
shake your head
why no....you say thru yer abject dismay
theres bin some kinda mistake...!
this aint the future........is it?
it cant be....!!!??
for there in that ball
(sigh)
you would see the geezer in the hat
n the geezer in the schoolboy get up
and
yes
then you fucking well n truly know
you got beamed down here by mistake
and the future aint much of a future
if thats what it holds....
oh please no
no no no
it cant be true, can it?
and people still eating meat
and people still fighting wars
and people still robbing banks
and shooting people at school
and crashing cars cos theyre driving drunk
and etc etc etc
still busting potsmokers
still dealing out guns
still getting pissed n brawling in pubs
is this it?
we got the internet but we're the same old losers
i dunno....2008....
painkiller easily the best record of the year
and i aint even heard the others...i just know it is
(enjoying robert forsters the evangelist at the moment)
no wonder the record biz is down the drain
good fucking riddance
what will all those smarmy pricks do for a crust now?
real estate..or used cars, i guess
the future seemed more futuristic in 1980
what with gary numan n the human league
(and now thank god we got vince noir)
it really seems this future was hardly worth arriving at
hardly worth waiting for
a passe future
future of materialism
future of bellicosity
future of the yob
me...?
i'm trying to hang around till 2032
when they let the public in
on the real story behind jfks assassination
a story still too shocking i guess to be told now
if they think no one around then will give a toss
then they aint counted on me
at 78
i'll still be furious
when i find out
that we
the good guys
the straight guys
the normal white nice guys
that we
shot our own king
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
crying like a fire in the sun
ok
i'm writing my own acka dacka songs from now on
for a start that geezer is one of the only blokes older than me
still going in rocknroll
so i'm a spring chickling compared to his venerable old carcass
ive already been shopping round for the hat
and i found a nice one at grimsbys fashions for seniors
with kilbey plaid on it
i wear it at a rakish angle
looking like a cross between andy capp n sid james
('allo darlin'!)
i'm taking some waddle n strut lessons from a man at the pub
including hefting guitar playing fifty year old school children aloft
(not tripping over their homework etc) and staggering about
i'm working on some lyrics...here 'ave a look
n tell me what you think....
i'm thinking of calling this one something like...
BIG KNOCKERS
i woz out one day walking my cock-er(wink to lads in crowd)
and i wanna get me hands on yer BIG KNOCKERS
dont look down cos my sausage is a shocker
(then crowd joins in)
and we wanna get out our hands on yer BIG KNOCKERS
BIG KNOCKERS
BIG KNOCKERS
BIG BIG BIG BIG BIG BIG KNOCKERS
love to roll my baby cos ya know she is a rocker
but i wanna bang bang wif yer BIG KNOCKERS
(fists punch the air on bang bang)
look i know its a still in an embryonic stage
i know a few parts need some work
i'll be polishing it up a little over the coming months
as i do my vocal warm ups
i'm going for a cross between
a bawling cockney sergeant major
and an old codger sitting down in a bath
and suddenly finding out thats its much too hot...
look it aint easy to sing like that
and i wanna look like the foreman on a demolition site
bellowing through the unbelievable racket going on around him
actually people have said to me
steven just ignore the singing n words...listen to the music
just ignore the singing n words!
yeah
like go n see this film...ignore the acting n the script..but otherwise..
how can you ignore the words n singing to a song?
how can one compartmentalize music like that?
ooh thats enough now steven john my boy
why do those guys push yer buttons?
oh i dont know..its so benny hill
i genuinely feel so fucking sorry for any young man
standing row upon row with others
with my fist in the air and mouthing the words..
whats wrong with me...?
dont i like fun..?
everybody should get some fun...thats what the west is all about
'aving a bit of fun
c'mon!
i'm writing my own acka dacka songs from now on
for a start that geezer is one of the only blokes older than me
still going in rocknroll
so i'm a spring chickling compared to his venerable old carcass
ive already been shopping round for the hat
and i found a nice one at grimsbys fashions for seniors
with kilbey plaid on it
i wear it at a rakish angle
looking like a cross between andy capp n sid james
('allo darlin'!)
i'm taking some waddle n strut lessons from a man at the pub
including hefting guitar playing fifty year old school children aloft
(not tripping over their homework etc) and staggering about
i'm working on some lyrics...here 'ave a look
n tell me what you think....
i'm thinking of calling this one something like...
BIG KNOCKERS
i woz out one day walking my cock-er(wink to lads in crowd)
and i wanna get me hands on yer BIG KNOCKERS
dont look down cos my sausage is a shocker
(then crowd joins in)
and we wanna get out our hands on yer BIG KNOCKERS
BIG KNOCKERS
BIG KNOCKERS
BIG BIG BIG BIG BIG BIG KNOCKERS
love to roll my baby cos ya know she is a rocker
but i wanna bang bang wif yer BIG KNOCKERS
(fists punch the air on bang bang)
look i know its a still in an embryonic stage
i know a few parts need some work
i'll be polishing it up a little over the coming months
as i do my vocal warm ups
i'm going for a cross between
a bawling cockney sergeant major
and an old codger sitting down in a bath
and suddenly finding out thats its much too hot...
look it aint easy to sing like that
and i wanna look like the foreman on a demolition site
bellowing through the unbelievable racket going on around him
actually people have said to me
steven just ignore the singing n words...listen to the music
just ignore the singing n words!
yeah
like go n see this film...ignore the acting n the script..but otherwise..
how can you ignore the words n singing to a song?
how can one compartmentalize music like that?
ooh thats enough now steven john my boy
why do those guys push yer buttons?
oh i dont know..its so benny hill
i genuinely feel so fucking sorry for any young man
standing row upon row with others
with my fist in the air and mouthing the words..
whats wrong with me...?
dont i like fun..?
everybody should get some fun...thats what the west is all about
'aving a bit of fun
c'mon!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
seems seamless
yeah my fingers a blur of action
words fill me head
gotta get it right...aw what does matter.?
i am the true po-it
i go beyond reality n hyper reality n sub reality
i penetrate things to their very core
i come out the otherside n i'm laughing
i am the sayer not the doer
sayer of the lore
two legs good
two heads better
i am primitively suave
i am elegantly awkward
i am older than you'll ever get to be
but look in my eyes
they are one day old
do i worry bout dying
yes i do
i picture my ascension up the ladder to heaven
just like the pandava i find it filled with unworthy brutes
because nothing is as simple as all that
the cosmos is beyond our comprehension
most humans are sluggish and stupid
witness their proclivities
see them wolf down their meat
see them goggle the idiot box
see them stumble down the highway in their boots of steel
what were they thinking...?
they never ask
they never wonder
they never buy one million tickets to see me
did you know that ac/dc have sold one bazillion records this week
saving the record biznesses neck?
wow!
the most brutal unoriginal common and lets face it stupid rock there is
music for old men to sing to young boys about nudge nudge wink phoah!
and double entendres intended to be risque
but sadly just vulgar
the miscreant in the 'at
or the old fool dressed up as the schoolboy
and why do they share their tired old malarkey
with rooms full of guys
young enough to be their grandkids
who are lapping this
sad tripe up
oh despair!
oh triumph of the philistines!
oh big mac n big brother n ac/dc
the diet of bilge
george bush n robbie williams n guy n nicole ritchie
what a puerile contemptible obvious world of men
indeed the age of the imbecile
the planet of the dumb people
the stodgy puddingish blechh of the hoi polloi
the all ordinaries indeed
the pits
words fill me head
gotta get it right...aw what does matter.?
i am the true po-it
i go beyond reality n hyper reality n sub reality
i penetrate things to their very core
i come out the otherside n i'm laughing
i am the sayer not the doer
sayer of the lore
two legs good
two heads better
i am primitively suave
i am elegantly awkward
i am older than you'll ever get to be
but look in my eyes
they are one day old
do i worry bout dying
yes i do
i picture my ascension up the ladder to heaven
just like the pandava i find it filled with unworthy brutes
because nothing is as simple as all that
the cosmos is beyond our comprehension
most humans are sluggish and stupid
witness their proclivities
see them wolf down their meat
see them goggle the idiot box
see them stumble down the highway in their boots of steel
what were they thinking...?
they never ask
they never wonder
they never buy one million tickets to see me
did you know that ac/dc have sold one bazillion records this week
saving the record biznesses neck?
wow!
the most brutal unoriginal common and lets face it stupid rock there is
music for old men to sing to young boys about nudge nudge wink phoah!
and double entendres intended to be risque
but sadly just vulgar
the miscreant in the 'at
or the old fool dressed up as the schoolboy
and why do they share their tired old malarkey
with rooms full of guys
young enough to be their grandkids
who are lapping this
sad tripe up
oh despair!
oh triumph of the philistines!
oh big mac n big brother n ac/dc
the diet of bilge
george bush n robbie williams n guy n nicole ritchie
what a puerile contemptible obvious world of men
indeed the age of the imbecile
the planet of the dumb people
the stodgy puddingish blechh of the hoi polloi
the all ordinaries indeed
the pits
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
all the latest earlybirds
la de da
scribble scribble
blah blah blah
i feel emptiness in my stomach verging on nausea
my limbs are lithe n loose
not what youd expect being 54
54 ...can you imagine when you'll be that old again..?!
54 x 365 = 19700 days
and to think of all that impatience
most of my life lived with some needless nameless anxiety
i never noticed the clouds
i never noticed the flowers
i never noticed time fading away
oh god sometimes i bore myself
all the good stuff in here i aint explored
but i gotta get thru the waffle first
my mind is a garden
i'm trying to climb over the hedge
i'm trying to get into my own mind
which only proves what many wise men tell us
YOU ARE NOT YOUR MIND
you think you are
and your mind really thinks it IS you...but it aint
otherwise how could i be out here
trying to get into my strange mind
where all the poems n songs n paintings are
until i realise them
they are potential somewhere in my million square mile mind
inside my head is as big as the sky
sometimes it tightens up
my universe rapidly shrinks
until theres no room for me in my mind
my mind has collapsed like a flaming gas balloon
and its plunging with me wrapped up in it
fuck its hard being a renaissance man tho
when there is no renaissance on at the moment
far from it...its the anti-renaissance
the age of the imbecile
my father was a renaissance man too
except i could never ever play the piano like him
and he didnt do poetry
poetry? he'd say and shake his head
lay some boogie-woogie on me son!
my dad deliberately pronounced the "g"s soft
boojie-woojie he'd say
something seemed to make my dad hold his talent in tho
he had no ambitions to exhibit or perform for an audience
tho he was a real crowdpleaser at a knees up or birfday bash
people are still talking bout kilbey as my mums brothers called him
uncle stan telling my wife how i got it all from kilbey
people will never say kilbey as affectionately again
as when the old timers say it and sigh
remembering that geezer who made everybody laugh
and then jumped on a piano
and had em singing along
now kilbey has on a slightly accusative feel
why kilbey why? asked one of my old workmates
eventually he made a sticker for me
why kilbey why?
he stuck it on my back without me knowing
and i musta walked around with that on fer hours
people indeed asking themselves silently
why kilbey why?
in the mouths of bullies i hated kilbey
because of the kil bit
when obviously they were gonna kill me
fuckin' kil-bey a bully would sneer
as he slapped me round the chops
wots wrong wif ya kil-bey...?
lucky in those days
the bullies punched you on the arm
not the face
so you got nasty bruises
but my lovely little nose stayed intact
ive seen a lot of people with big noses fretting about them
my dads nose was bigger than mine
n i know he wanted a smaller one
so i'm glad my nose isnt too big
thank christ..one less phobia to carry round
at least my nose is normal
unlike my mind
which
as i said is either too big or too small
its either a thousand miles to the next inkling
or its a crush of skull n blood n brains
but my mind aint my brains
and i aint my mind
but i am you tho
tho it is hard to believe
today aurora kilbey goes in early for her flute lesson
i'm working on natalie in lemuria
on my new big paper n my new big easel
standing up!
and paint n pastel begin to obey my will
and my lines are smooth n authentic
i'm having a lot of fun painting my wifes face
although i got it slightly wrong
now some wildeyed blonde stares back from the black paper
and i gotta put the jungle round her
what will you put in the border nk asks me
uh...skulls n hearts ...i say
yeah thats good she says
ok easy
skulls, flaming skulls, eyes
thats the sort of thing i like in my borders
sort of setting the scene
like all the paintings backstage at the house of blues
its all guitars n skulls n flames n dice n virgin marys
n crucifixes n skellingtons n diablos n demons
n elvis n cars n mexico n robert johnsons
thats where my paintings should be
im trying to drum up a little voodoo here in nth bondi
tho i'm just a naive white man from canberra act
i like to visit the jungle via my paintings
n leave out all the mozzies n dangerous beasties
leave out all the blow pipes n mal-aria
so theres natalie staring back from black
her features which i know so well are delicate
and a tiny bit one way or the other can make it all wrong
i paint away n listen to music
i think surely someone will buy this painting
and i know in my heart of hearts that they will
the weather is mild n the days just melt away
and are gone
i will try to hang onto today for all i'm worth
and what i'm worth would vary from person to person
some would say very little
a very few might say a fortune
most would say who?
so i go on typing
surely i'm bound to be discovered soon....!!??
scribble scribble
blah blah blah
i feel emptiness in my stomach verging on nausea
my limbs are lithe n loose
not what youd expect being 54
54 ...can you imagine when you'll be that old again..?!
54 x 365 = 19700 days
and to think of all that impatience
most of my life lived with some needless nameless anxiety
i never noticed the clouds
i never noticed the flowers
i never noticed time fading away
oh god sometimes i bore myself
all the good stuff in here i aint explored
but i gotta get thru the waffle first
my mind is a garden
i'm trying to climb over the hedge
i'm trying to get into my own mind
which only proves what many wise men tell us
YOU ARE NOT YOUR MIND
you think you are
and your mind really thinks it IS you...but it aint
otherwise how could i be out here
trying to get into my strange mind
where all the poems n songs n paintings are
until i realise them
they are potential somewhere in my million square mile mind
inside my head is as big as the sky
sometimes it tightens up
my universe rapidly shrinks
until theres no room for me in my mind
my mind has collapsed like a flaming gas balloon
and its plunging with me wrapped up in it
fuck its hard being a renaissance man tho
when there is no renaissance on at the moment
far from it...its the anti-renaissance
the age of the imbecile
my father was a renaissance man too
except i could never ever play the piano like him
and he didnt do poetry
poetry? he'd say and shake his head
lay some boogie-woogie on me son!
my dad deliberately pronounced the "g"s soft
boojie-woojie he'd say
something seemed to make my dad hold his talent in tho
he had no ambitions to exhibit or perform for an audience
tho he was a real crowdpleaser at a knees up or birfday bash
people are still talking bout kilbey as my mums brothers called him
uncle stan telling my wife how i got it all from kilbey
people will never say kilbey as affectionately again
as when the old timers say it and sigh
remembering that geezer who made everybody laugh
and then jumped on a piano
and had em singing along
now kilbey has on a slightly accusative feel
why kilbey why? asked one of my old workmates
eventually he made a sticker for me
why kilbey why?
he stuck it on my back without me knowing
and i musta walked around with that on fer hours
people indeed asking themselves silently
why kilbey why?
in the mouths of bullies i hated kilbey
because of the kil bit
when obviously they were gonna kill me
fuckin' kil-bey a bully would sneer
as he slapped me round the chops
wots wrong wif ya kil-bey...?
lucky in those days
the bullies punched you on the arm
not the face
so you got nasty bruises
but my lovely little nose stayed intact
ive seen a lot of people with big noses fretting about them
my dads nose was bigger than mine
n i know he wanted a smaller one
so i'm glad my nose isnt too big
thank christ..one less phobia to carry round
at least my nose is normal
unlike my mind
which
as i said is either too big or too small
its either a thousand miles to the next inkling
or its a crush of skull n blood n brains
but my mind aint my brains
and i aint my mind
but i am you tho
tho it is hard to believe
today aurora kilbey goes in early for her flute lesson
i'm working on natalie in lemuria
on my new big paper n my new big easel
standing up!
and paint n pastel begin to obey my will
and my lines are smooth n authentic
i'm having a lot of fun painting my wifes face
although i got it slightly wrong
now some wildeyed blonde stares back from the black paper
and i gotta put the jungle round her
what will you put in the border nk asks me
uh...skulls n hearts ...i say
yeah thats good she says
ok easy
skulls, flaming skulls, eyes
thats the sort of thing i like in my borders
sort of setting the scene
like all the paintings backstage at the house of blues
its all guitars n skulls n flames n dice n virgin marys
n crucifixes n skellingtons n diablos n demons
n elvis n cars n mexico n robert johnsons
thats where my paintings should be
im trying to drum up a little voodoo here in nth bondi
tho i'm just a naive white man from canberra act
i like to visit the jungle via my paintings
n leave out all the mozzies n dangerous beasties
leave out all the blow pipes n mal-aria
so theres natalie staring back from black
her features which i know so well are delicate
and a tiny bit one way or the other can make it all wrong
i paint away n listen to music
i think surely someone will buy this painting
and i know in my heart of hearts that they will
the weather is mild n the days just melt away
and are gone
i will try to hang onto today for all i'm worth
and what i'm worth would vary from person to person
some would say very little
a very few might say a fortune
most would say who?
so i go on typing
surely i'm bound to be discovered soon....!!??
Monday, October 27, 2008
gradually eventually
be patient
you'll play all the parts
morning
summer
winter
evening
return to your old haunts
driving down country lanes you become your father
hanging in the sky become your son
suddenly you look around yourself
all this and you were hardly interested
now with time running out the doors
time pouring through every open window
time pawing your bones
time poring through your mind
temporal shift
today the flowers are all painted in brightly
the temperature has been adjusted to a jolly 75 degrees
oh maybe i should stick around you think
in a field like italy
beware of snakes says the flyer
men in green direct you to your spot in the trees
float over the lawns
nibble nibble
one side makes you taller one side makes you smaller
my mother sits like a queen on a portable throne
80 years old surrounded by her sons and brothers
sisters-in-law, daughters-in-law
nephews, grand children and well-wishers
time has shaped her inside and out
i remember when she was more restless
under some kind of pressure she put on herself
now she sits with her iffy knee fresh from under the knife
under a great pine tree
gracious and happy and contented
while a strange crowd of country bumpkins and hippies
listen to the bhagavad guitars
i talk a little but dont say much
always the outsider
russell says
i'd tick every box on the asbergers page
anti social
dislikes crowds n noise (oh you bet i do)
cant read people (apparently not)
etc
something in me cant feel
and something else feels too much
i cant stand the phony baloney chit chat trip
if i know you hate me
dont welcome me into your house with a forced smile
dont kiss me or hug me or ask me how d'ye do?
anyway i always keep me distance from em all
but now its a quiet distance
a modest distance
a distance filled with quiet vagueness
not a screaming silence
i dont sulk in a huff
i just sit on my own
no one can or wants to reach me
i see marlon cruise by
he looks at me now like we understand each other
neither of us can really participate in these things
why why why
i dont resent it if thats what it is
ive always hated small talk
i want to like it
i want to fit in
how many times has someone said to me
why cant you just be normal for once?
and i didnt know
i never knew what it was
i learned to approximate
you mean i should actually smile?
like this?
i knew smiling was good but i never made the connection
or if i did i could never be bothered
we are animals...we react to this kind of stimuli
maybe i tried to jump over all that
i cant remember
in my mind i was cold and cruel
but i am no longer that childe
the gardens pacify me
trees and flowers gently excite my wonder
i gaze with a painterly eye
endless shades of green to master
just like endless shades of meaning to glean
and eve runs around and drinks fizzy drinks until she just explodes
she has to lie down in a cool room to recover
aurora keeps going hard
and the baby is all hot sweaty n mostly exasperated
the inevitable sausages n prawns come out
i need to steer clear of that noxious smoke
this here is the real poison
they all dig in
no one will listen to me
i sadly see children devouring bacon n sausages
what a shame
everyone drinking beer
hey its a party isnt it ?
i like to see em all enjoying em selves now
i suppose thats progress
it makes me happy
to see em all happy
and i would love to lose myself
in any happy crowd
no it was really lovely
the country air
the warm evening
all the people
my mother hitting eighty
she never molly coddled me much
i used to wish she had
now i'm glad she didnt....it was good for me
and i see that through distance
i was able to get closer to things
and a load of other boring old paradoxes
that come with being some sort of human being
i suppose
you'll play all the parts
morning
summer
winter
evening
return to your old haunts
driving down country lanes you become your father
hanging in the sky become your son
suddenly you look around yourself
all this and you were hardly interested
now with time running out the doors
time pouring through every open window
time pawing your bones
time poring through your mind
temporal shift
today the flowers are all painted in brightly
the temperature has been adjusted to a jolly 75 degrees
oh maybe i should stick around you think
in a field like italy
beware of snakes says the flyer
men in green direct you to your spot in the trees
float over the lawns
nibble nibble
one side makes you taller one side makes you smaller
my mother sits like a queen on a portable throne
80 years old surrounded by her sons and brothers
sisters-in-law, daughters-in-law
nephews, grand children and well-wishers
time has shaped her inside and out
i remember when she was more restless
under some kind of pressure she put on herself
now she sits with her iffy knee fresh from under the knife
under a great pine tree
gracious and happy and contented
while a strange crowd of country bumpkins and hippies
listen to the bhagavad guitars
i talk a little but dont say much
always the outsider
russell says
i'd tick every box on the asbergers page
anti social
dislikes crowds n noise (oh you bet i do)
cant read people (apparently not)
etc
something in me cant feel
and something else feels too much
i cant stand the phony baloney chit chat trip
if i know you hate me
dont welcome me into your house with a forced smile
dont kiss me or hug me or ask me how d'ye do?
anyway i always keep me distance from em all
but now its a quiet distance
a modest distance
a distance filled with quiet vagueness
not a screaming silence
i dont sulk in a huff
i just sit on my own
no one can or wants to reach me
i see marlon cruise by
he looks at me now like we understand each other
neither of us can really participate in these things
why why why
i dont resent it if thats what it is
ive always hated small talk
i want to like it
i want to fit in
how many times has someone said to me
why cant you just be normal for once?
and i didnt know
i never knew what it was
i learned to approximate
you mean i should actually smile?
like this?
i knew smiling was good but i never made the connection
or if i did i could never be bothered
we are animals...we react to this kind of stimuli
maybe i tried to jump over all that
i cant remember
in my mind i was cold and cruel
but i am no longer that childe
the gardens pacify me
trees and flowers gently excite my wonder
i gaze with a painterly eye
endless shades of green to master
just like endless shades of meaning to glean
and eve runs around and drinks fizzy drinks until she just explodes
she has to lie down in a cool room to recover
aurora keeps going hard
and the baby is all hot sweaty n mostly exasperated
the inevitable sausages n prawns come out
i need to steer clear of that noxious smoke
this here is the real poison
they all dig in
no one will listen to me
i sadly see children devouring bacon n sausages
what a shame
everyone drinking beer
hey its a party isnt it ?
i like to see em all enjoying em selves now
i suppose thats progress
it makes me happy
to see em all happy
and i would love to lose myself
in any happy crowd
no it was really lovely
the country air
the warm evening
all the people
my mother hitting eighty
she never molly coddled me much
i used to wish she had
now i'm glad she didnt....it was good for me
and i see that through distance
i was able to get closer to things
and a load of other boring old paradoxes
that come with being some sort of human being
i suppose
Saturday, October 25, 2008
room
kilbey peers into the mist
i painted a picture it sang me this song
oh everything is easy now
oh everything is nice
if only you do fix me good
i'll really fetch a price
(remember...it was a painting singing)
(and dont be stupid)
there was something quite wrong with this
i needed freedom
i needed to let all things flow
and reach that place inside us
where everything verily doth come
source of light
sauce of dark thoughts
the jungle in my room has swallowed me whole
round milky sphere where i scry the angel of the future
little i-droppers filled with flew-ids
a load of coins n brushes n reeds n trees n rivers of paint
my room my room
i call out from the eastern marshes
a hundred miles from the door
an avalanche of postcards covers my tale
i swim through ancient verona with my piggy bank safely guaranteed
hey mum n dad thats me on the beach in london
thats me n oswald lee harvey skiing in dallas/st paul
dear me isnt that the outskirts of alexandria
and we stayed at the ithaca hilton n the thracian travel lodge
and we camped on the fields in flanders...fido digging for bones
and we rested in the long mornings out in hammarby
and the circus disappeared
we ate dinner on the porch with m krall
when no one knew our number
and no one knew our name.....
but i am still lost in this room
self portrait on the wall opens up his little mouth
no i dont need YOUR advice i say to him
spiders....daddy longlegs...bob in the distant corners
the ceiling is the sky
n the sky is the limit
n the limit is one person per ticket
so i'm afraid i cant guarantee you re-entry
cant you see me stumbling around here
my ego weighing me down as usual
muse: and contributing very little....
god kilbey where do you come up with all this rubbish
its not rubbish ...its.....
anyway
anyway what
anyway what i mean is...
youre lost
i'm lost
we're lost
we're lost n unprepared to pay the cost
the room looms
my room has finally taken me down
pushing up the scree of gold paint chips
unopened packages n bits of string
little boxes of ...tiny parts for something
stencils n pencils n flashing controls
the pastel dust settles
sometimes mimicking a navaho sand painting
the blinds open out into pale mornings
the lightest blue sky n ribs of white clouds
pine trees n palm trees no breeze
buildings catch the timid sun
white and gold light up
i shiver in my mansuit
i pause with my paws n my clause
williams radiotronics stuttering iacocca staccato
an astralnaut lost in my room
a cosmos unto itself
i am the drifter
i paddle up the dreams streams and reveries cul de sacks
i am the salmon deep in the cave
hiding from odin
my room with its mountains of guitar cases
my room with its million memories before me
my rented room
my minutes ticking out inexorably
my chilly room
silent room
early morning room
no sign of kathy or mr weird
no sign of terri or terry
walk through the early morning streets
"air blows cool hurryin' on my way"
some imaginary life i lead
still in my room though
my foot on a box of books
dreaming it all up
conjecturing
living room
thoughts like veins crossing the surface
summer has stalled
we change our plans
re think it out
look a head
choose more
want more
get more
nick more
take away
get off
get on
get lost n forgotton
forget yourself?
sure
i painted a picture it sang me this song
oh everything is easy now
oh everything is nice
if only you do fix me good
i'll really fetch a price
(remember...it was a painting singing)
(and dont be stupid)
there was something quite wrong with this
i needed freedom
i needed to let all things flow
and reach that place inside us
where everything verily doth come
source of light
sauce of dark thoughts
the jungle in my room has swallowed me whole
round milky sphere where i scry the angel of the future
little i-droppers filled with flew-ids
a load of coins n brushes n reeds n trees n rivers of paint
my room my room
i call out from the eastern marshes
a hundred miles from the door
an avalanche of postcards covers my tale
i swim through ancient verona with my piggy bank safely guaranteed
hey mum n dad thats me on the beach in london
thats me n oswald lee harvey skiing in dallas/st paul
dear me isnt that the outskirts of alexandria
and we stayed at the ithaca hilton n the thracian travel lodge
and we camped on the fields in flanders...fido digging for bones
and we rested in the long mornings out in hammarby
and the circus disappeared
we ate dinner on the porch with m krall
when no one knew our number
and no one knew our name.....
but i am still lost in this room
self portrait on the wall opens up his little mouth
no i dont need YOUR advice i say to him
spiders....daddy longlegs...bob in the distant corners
the ceiling is the sky
n the sky is the limit
n the limit is one person per ticket
so i'm afraid i cant guarantee you re-entry
cant you see me stumbling around here
my ego weighing me down as usual
muse: and contributing very little....
god kilbey where do you come up with all this rubbish
its not rubbish ...its.....
anyway
anyway what
anyway what i mean is...
youre lost
i'm lost
we're lost
we're lost n unprepared to pay the cost
the room looms
my room has finally taken me down
pushing up the scree of gold paint chips
unopened packages n bits of string
little boxes of ...tiny parts for something
stencils n pencils n flashing controls
the pastel dust settles
sometimes mimicking a navaho sand painting
the blinds open out into pale mornings
the lightest blue sky n ribs of white clouds
pine trees n palm trees no breeze
buildings catch the timid sun
white and gold light up
i shiver in my mansuit
i pause with my paws n my clause
williams radiotronics stuttering iacocca staccato
an astralnaut lost in my room
a cosmos unto itself
i am the drifter
i paddle up the dreams streams and reveries cul de sacks
i am the salmon deep in the cave
hiding from odin
my room with its mountains of guitar cases
my room with its million memories before me
my rented room
my minutes ticking out inexorably
my chilly room
silent room
early morning room
no sign of kathy or mr weird
no sign of terri or terry
walk through the early morning streets
"air blows cool hurryin' on my way"
some imaginary life i lead
still in my room though
my foot on a box of books
dreaming it all up
conjecturing
living room
thoughts like veins crossing the surface
summer has stalled
we change our plans
re think it out
look a head
choose more
want more
get more
nick more
take away
get off
get on
get lost n forgotton
forget yourself?
sure
Friday, October 24, 2008
conjecture
we know nothing of ourselves
who we truly are
our capabilities
our capacities
we are deep continents submerged in a sea of not knowing
we face each day blindly oblivious of our true pasts
we end each day no closer to ourselves
strangers to each other
still thinking i can hurt you without hurting me
still judging and under-estimating you
still ignoring and bothering you
people told me who i was
other people told them who they were
i tear off the mask only to find another underneath it
masking the rusty surface and facing the sea
asking me for a purpose so patiently
a purpose...?
endings n beginnings
reasons why and dates
we have no idea what we’re measuring
certainty is a joke
nothing is certain
nothing is sacred
nothing is forever
open up now
to the possibility you may have been wrong
prepare to accept you may have erred
maybe your memory
maybe your perception
maybe your thinking was out
and you never ever saw it
an actor hooked on his lines
you never leave your play
you never drop out of character
and walk to the back of the theatre
and see that its all just a bloody act
you so fixated on anything that comes along
money
gossip
fashion
power
fame
youth
strength
victory
domination
power
omnipotence
prestige
yes yes
give them to me
yes yes
anything youve got
in my sleep i scream out for someone to wake me up
a sleeper calling in a roomful of sleepers
a little starfish in a tiny pool cursing at the ocean
an eagles feather stuck in a stupid idiots hat
a black panthers pelt in a cardsharks hovel
i pick up my paints and i paint lemuria
i paint me in lemuria
i paint natalie in lemuria
i paint steve draper in lemuria with guitars and eyes
i paint elli n minna in lemuria with the temples n snakes
i paint scarlet kilbey as a moon goddess priestess in lemuria
i paint details of lemurian jungles
but when i stop
but when i hit pause on my i-box
but when i rinse the paint n pastel dust off my hands
but when i look in the soft mirror and fall right through
but when nightfalls short and daylong
and memories seep from the shadows
and i wake up in the light of a bye gone after noon
when i wake up in yesterday
when i re enter the continuum
when the film has started to print through
when the discrete channels begin to hear each other
when the god in man starts to wake up
when the last man is killed
when we stop and realise
when the reductionism reaches its final logical phase
when scientists say we dont fucking know
when they gonna realise
that you really do have to pay your dues
if ya wanna sing the blues
that means without authenticity youre nothing
thats why they say people suffer for their art
not because arthur rim baud or dylan t
got writers cramp scrawling the stuff
but you gotta be wide open if you wanna catch it
and youre gonna catch everything
n things you didnt foresee
n things you didnt want
and the better you are
the crazier you are
dont you see they go hand in hand
but what is madness and genius and pain
except a mind so finely attuned
nothing escapes its attention
and a mind not content with its own explanations
that is
you cant be jim morrison without being jim morrison
you cant have one without the other
and thats why dylan is so easily spooked
and why poor jeff buckley had to go swimming
and why kurt needed nothing less than oblivion
and why some masters never utter a word
and why winter follows spring
and spring follows a meandering course
and why krishna is the colour of a cloud
and why we dont fall off this world
and why it never comes when you want it
and why you better carpe fucking diem
and scarlet kilbey with her big head full of ideas
still sleeping
dreaming of her lemurian childhood in the jungle opera
when they summoned the gods and the elements
when they spoke in tongues of lightning
and the music was blazing
and the rhythm was infectious
and the jungle closes in
closing in
closer and closer
the monkeys and big cats
the medicinal vine
the bark with its dmt
the shrubs n luminous moss
the roots travelling underground
the rain and the wind
the open spaces
the temples on the hillsides
electrical disturbance!
a blue white flash
a sudden illumination
steve kilbey drops his paintbrush
the magenta
the ice blue
the marine green
the lemon yellow
the violet n indigo n purple n mauve
the crimson n maroon
the paper ripped from a tree
the distance recedes
people step out from behind the trees
natives
savages
wild men n witchdoctors
barbarians
sun worshippers
woad wearing britons
egyptians with bird heads
i dont know
whatever theyve got
franks, celts, yutumbi, watusi, belucci
fettucine
babychino
crash
thats evolution
i guess
who we truly are
our capabilities
our capacities
we are deep continents submerged in a sea of not knowing
we face each day blindly oblivious of our true pasts
we end each day no closer to ourselves
strangers to each other
still thinking i can hurt you without hurting me
still judging and under-estimating you
still ignoring and bothering you
people told me who i was
other people told them who they were
i tear off the mask only to find another underneath it
masking the rusty surface and facing the sea
asking me for a purpose so patiently
a purpose...?
endings n beginnings
reasons why and dates
we have no idea what we’re measuring
certainty is a joke
nothing is certain
nothing is sacred
nothing is forever
open up now
to the possibility you may have been wrong
prepare to accept you may have erred
maybe your memory
maybe your perception
maybe your thinking was out
and you never ever saw it
an actor hooked on his lines
you never leave your play
you never drop out of character
and walk to the back of the theatre
and see that its all just a bloody act
you so fixated on anything that comes along
money
gossip
fashion
power
fame
youth
strength
victory
domination
power
omnipotence
prestige
yes yes
give them to me
yes yes
anything youve got
in my sleep i scream out for someone to wake me up
a sleeper calling in a roomful of sleepers
a little starfish in a tiny pool cursing at the ocean
an eagles feather stuck in a stupid idiots hat
a black panthers pelt in a cardsharks hovel
i pick up my paints and i paint lemuria
i paint me in lemuria
i paint natalie in lemuria
i paint steve draper in lemuria with guitars and eyes
i paint elli n minna in lemuria with the temples n snakes
i paint scarlet kilbey as a moon goddess priestess in lemuria
i paint details of lemurian jungles
but when i stop
but when i hit pause on my i-box
but when i rinse the paint n pastel dust off my hands
but when i look in the soft mirror and fall right through
but when nightfalls short and daylong
and memories seep from the shadows
and i wake up in the light of a bye gone after noon
when i wake up in yesterday
when i re enter the continuum
when the film has started to print through
when the discrete channels begin to hear each other
when the god in man starts to wake up
when the last man is killed
when we stop and realise
when the reductionism reaches its final logical phase
when scientists say we dont fucking know
when they gonna realise
that you really do have to pay your dues
if ya wanna sing the blues
that means without authenticity youre nothing
thats why they say people suffer for their art
not because arthur rim baud or dylan t
got writers cramp scrawling the stuff
but you gotta be wide open if you wanna catch it
and youre gonna catch everything
n things you didnt foresee
n things you didnt want
and the better you are
the crazier you are
dont you see they go hand in hand
but what is madness and genius and pain
except a mind so finely attuned
nothing escapes its attention
and a mind not content with its own explanations
that is
you cant be jim morrison without being jim morrison
you cant have one without the other
and thats why dylan is so easily spooked
and why poor jeff buckley had to go swimming
and why kurt needed nothing less than oblivion
and why some masters never utter a word
and why winter follows spring
and spring follows a meandering course
and why krishna is the colour of a cloud
and why we dont fall off this world
and why it never comes when you want it
and why you better carpe fucking diem
and scarlet kilbey with her big head full of ideas
still sleeping
dreaming of her lemurian childhood in the jungle opera
when they summoned the gods and the elements
when they spoke in tongues of lightning
and the music was blazing
and the rhythm was infectious
and the jungle closes in
closing in
closer and closer
the monkeys and big cats
the medicinal vine
the bark with its dmt
the shrubs n luminous moss
the roots travelling underground
the rain and the wind
the open spaces
the temples on the hillsides
electrical disturbance!
a blue white flash
a sudden illumination
steve kilbey drops his paintbrush
the magenta
the ice blue
the marine green
the lemon yellow
the violet n indigo n purple n mauve
the crimson n maroon
the paper ripped from a tree
the distance recedes
people step out from behind the trees
natives
savages
wild men n witchdoctors
barbarians
sun worshippers
woad wearing britons
egyptians with bird heads
i dont know
whatever theyve got
franks, celts, yutumbi, watusi, belucci
fettucine
babychino
crash
thats evolution
i guess
Thursday, October 23, 2008
square pegs in round holes/ making your mark on this world, somehow
i must admit
when i first met my nephew marlon
i thought he was a naughty little sod
he reminded me of myself as a kid in many ways
he didnt like saying hello or goodbye
he was difficult n hard to reach
he always seemed like he was up to something
he flouted authority
only he took it to the nth degree
while i was more easily "brought into line"
i must admit i got angry with his antics n his carry-on
just like all those old bastards got angry with me as a kid
then i guess he was diagnosed
with having aspergers syndrome
a type of mild autism
it gradually became apparent
to even me
that marlon was not merely a naughty little sod...
after accepting it
it was so much easier to hang out with marlon
and leave him alone if he wanted that
he came on a bush walk with us one day
saying nothing at all....he was about 5
but every now n then hed say something incredibly pithy
or he'd ask what "prosecuted" meant after reading a sign
russell n i were discussing a film
marlon was sitting there blank faced
you woulda thought that he was miles away
suddenly he says
"that film is actually available on dvd now
ive seen it at the video shop , filed under blah blah
and it costs blah blah to rent or blah blah to buy"
and hes suddenly silent again
he has the ability to get obsessed by an idea
ie being harry potter
and take it all the way
just like a genius
or a madman
or any mover n shaker
i dont understand it
i still think there are naughty little sods out there
and everyone gets a syndrome these days
and some ratbags are hiding away under their supposed label
but marlon is undeniably different
hes in his own place if he wants to be
this world seems a bit ordinary to him
he has a lively imagination
hes very handsome....handsome uncles on both sides will do that
and hes strange but obviously a bit of a genius too
and thinking about it
its possible that i myself
could be
(drum rolls n cynical laughter)
or could have been
very very mildly asbergers too:
the disdain for the mundane world
the rich inner life
the lack of social skills...i was a 'orrible kid
(or was i?)
aspergers children cant read other children that well
or be read by them back
i was a little like that
i dunno
maybe i was just a naughty little sod
anyway
russell n amy
have turned it all around
taken this potentially tragic situation
digested it
taken it on
and turned it around
with 2 docos on aspergers
the second one was screened on telly last nite
a student of russells with asp. n 20% vision
this guy mark
he can tell you any chart position of any record
from the 1980s (especially)
so russell n amy have the great idea
of trying to get mark on rockwiz the aussie rock quiz show
i myself was on a few weeks back
anyhoo
the doco tells us some fascinating things about mark now nearly 40
he dreams a parallel world every night "a continuum"
in this world he has a wife
hes got his own label
hes a rockstar
an astronaut
a hero
a detailed parallel universe
his imagination is so incredibly developed
all illustrated and mapped by mark
i'm totally sucked in
i'm feeling like this universe aint so imaginary
mark tells of instances which sound just like astral travel
then the sad stuff
HE WAS BEATEN N RIDICULED N OSTRACIZED EVERY DAY AT SCHOOL!
fuck!
even the rottenest kid at lyneham wouldnt have hurt a guy like mark
where do they breed these monsters?
what kind of syndromes do they have to beat an almost blind kid?
i was starting to cry at this point
my family all stared goggle eyed at the screen
forgetting now we were watching russells doco
n just caught up in marks incredible story
yeah it was a fuckin' tearjerker
and i was so on marks side now it wasnt funny
anyway russell n amy take him round to see glenn a baker
austs own rock brain of the universe
and a bit of an old mate of mine
we question each other on trivia
and last time i saw him at the divinyls last year
i outgunned him
(knowing the keyboard player from grand funks name!)
eventually mark tries out for rock wiz
and vindication!
he slays em
he gets on the show
he is selected
what happens next you'll have to wait for saturday nite
when the actual episode is aired
but im hoping for a fairytale ending
eg marks side wins
an amazing doco
about the capability of the human brain
about what we used to call idiot savants
about redemption n justice
about russ n amys own struggle
about the determination n perseverance of one guy
against a stupid cruel world
i rang russ up to compliment him
lo n behold mark himself was round there
we talked for twenty minutes
i was pumping him for info on his private universe
jesus...what a guy
yes he deserves whatever comes now
maybe not much after all the hoo ha dies down
he loved music so much growing up
all those love songs
those songs he listened to at home quite friendless
"i just wanted a girlfriend to love n be loved
just like other kids" he said sadly on the phone
imagine his loneliness
that beautiful genius mind of his
sussing n grokking all that music
cataloging it in some strange way
just like tommy in the rock opera
his soul n 'magination took flight...
i cant wait for saturdays show!!!
when i first met my nephew marlon
i thought he was a naughty little sod
he reminded me of myself as a kid in many ways
he didnt like saying hello or goodbye
he was difficult n hard to reach
he always seemed like he was up to something
he flouted authority
only he took it to the nth degree
while i was more easily "brought into line"
i must admit i got angry with his antics n his carry-on
just like all those old bastards got angry with me as a kid
then i guess he was diagnosed
with having aspergers syndrome
a type of mild autism
it gradually became apparent
to even me
that marlon was not merely a naughty little sod...
after accepting it
it was so much easier to hang out with marlon
and leave him alone if he wanted that
he came on a bush walk with us one day
saying nothing at all....he was about 5
but every now n then hed say something incredibly pithy
or he'd ask what "prosecuted" meant after reading a sign
russell n i were discussing a film
marlon was sitting there blank faced
you woulda thought that he was miles away
suddenly he says
"that film is actually available on dvd now
ive seen it at the video shop , filed under blah blah
and it costs blah blah to rent or blah blah to buy"
and hes suddenly silent again
he has the ability to get obsessed by an idea
ie being harry potter
and take it all the way
just like a genius
or a madman
or any mover n shaker
i dont understand it
i still think there are naughty little sods out there
and everyone gets a syndrome these days
and some ratbags are hiding away under their supposed label
but marlon is undeniably different
hes in his own place if he wants to be
this world seems a bit ordinary to him
he has a lively imagination
hes very handsome....handsome uncles on both sides will do that
and hes strange but obviously a bit of a genius too
and thinking about it
its possible that i myself
could be
(drum rolls n cynical laughter)
or could have been
very very mildly asbergers too:
the disdain for the mundane world
the rich inner life
the lack of social skills...i was a 'orrible kid
(or was i?)
aspergers children cant read other children that well
or be read by them back
i was a little like that
i dunno
maybe i was just a naughty little sod
anyway
russell n amy
have turned it all around
taken this potentially tragic situation
digested it
taken it on
and turned it around
with 2 docos on aspergers
the second one was screened on telly last nite
a student of russells with asp. n 20% vision
this guy mark
he can tell you any chart position of any record
from the 1980s (especially)
so russell n amy have the great idea
of trying to get mark on rockwiz the aussie rock quiz show
i myself was on a few weeks back
anyhoo
the doco tells us some fascinating things about mark now nearly 40
he dreams a parallel world every night "a continuum"
in this world he has a wife
hes got his own label
hes a rockstar
an astronaut
a hero
a detailed parallel universe
his imagination is so incredibly developed
all illustrated and mapped by mark
i'm totally sucked in
i'm feeling like this universe aint so imaginary
mark tells of instances which sound just like astral travel
then the sad stuff
HE WAS BEATEN N RIDICULED N OSTRACIZED EVERY DAY AT SCHOOL!
fuck!
even the rottenest kid at lyneham wouldnt have hurt a guy like mark
where do they breed these monsters?
what kind of syndromes do they have to beat an almost blind kid?
i was starting to cry at this point
my family all stared goggle eyed at the screen
forgetting now we were watching russells doco
n just caught up in marks incredible story
yeah it was a fuckin' tearjerker
and i was so on marks side now it wasnt funny
anyway russell n amy take him round to see glenn a baker
austs own rock brain of the universe
and a bit of an old mate of mine
we question each other on trivia
and last time i saw him at the divinyls last year
i outgunned him
(knowing the keyboard player from grand funks name!)
eventually mark tries out for rock wiz
and vindication!
he slays em
he gets on the show
he is selected
what happens next you'll have to wait for saturday nite
when the actual episode is aired
but im hoping for a fairytale ending
eg marks side wins
an amazing doco
about the capability of the human brain
about what we used to call idiot savants
about redemption n justice
about russ n amys own struggle
about the determination n perseverance of one guy
against a stupid cruel world
i rang russ up to compliment him
lo n behold mark himself was round there
we talked for twenty minutes
i was pumping him for info on his private universe
jesus...what a guy
yes he deserves whatever comes now
maybe not much after all the hoo ha dies down
he loved music so much growing up
all those love songs
those songs he listened to at home quite friendless
"i just wanted a girlfriend to love n be loved
just like other kids" he said sadly on the phone
imagine his loneliness
that beautiful genius mind of his
sussing n grokking all that music
cataloging it in some strange way
just like tommy in the rock opera
his soul n 'magination took flight...
i cant wait for saturdays show!!!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
for late tricks
coke
sangria
a smoke
music plays low n cool
smooth operator smooth op-a-ra-ta
some cat was laying down a lotta soul he said
the mirror lies about your age
its raining outside
but outside doesnt exist
oh youre a lucky man
light some incense .....musk and sandalwood
baby gets out the shower half drunk already
her eyes roll a round in her head
she moves thru the dark in a slight stumble
half dressed in her costume
oh yes you look lovely my little creature
you look so.......extraordinary
you spent so long getting ready
now all sweet and dishevelled
docile and intoxicated : loves swift darts
and if you asked what year this is
why she wouldnt know
the screen flickers silently...someones mouth open
the cushions are plumped and waiting
the night tap tap tap at the little window
the clock racing
i dont want time to pass... the creature whispers rather naively
or i wish it would go on n on non....just like this she adds
what language is she talking in someone wonders i guess
the author in my head is grasping for words
the words gasp for life
sweetlife@eternity.net
the mirror reflects her in pink n white n blonde n black
she is like a foggy moon with her own reflected glow
her brown eyes are quite vacant now
she looks but doesnt seem to see
i think about how lord krishna slowed down a night
for thousands of years
and he multiplied himself into thousands
and he danced with the thousands of women
and he loved them all
and each thought she had that sly blue god to herself
and krishna whirled about himself in the rasa lila
and the other gods dropped beautiful flowers on them from the sky
and time, so in love with the lord, was induced to indeed stop
and each kiss and caress of the lord was perfect
and the young women would swoon under his divine hand
and the warm indian night
and the tigers watch on in awe
and the snakes unblinking eye mesmerized
and the white swan glides
and the pink lotus blooms
and pleasure
no not knowledge
or triumph
or power
but pleasure
this warm night traded for the cold aching morrow
this moving room for the rat race
this comely wench for old skullfaced death
this white powder for ash
this wine for christs blood
this holy smoke for the pyre
my little coquette what you tryin' to forget
myself
yourself
ourself
our selves
this night
this rain
the throbbing black vegetation
the mescaline filled cactii screaming to be eaten
the thunder of distant doors slamming
baby puts iggy n the stooges on
im so messed up i need ya here sings iggy
now i wanna be your dog
now i wanna be your dog
well come on !
the guitar incandesces in a white fizz in my frozen mind
anxiety and lust in equal partnership
i want more
i want more too she says
more n more n more
and time to stop forever
little doll i cant forget sings iggy thru the rain n the years
across the room and through other worlds
marilyn monroe naked in the pool like a killer whale
mae west manhandles the equipment
is that all you? she jokes
as you tinkle on her piano in the wee small hours
in her apartment above miracle street
brings happiness n everything sings iggy
yeah and then
i think about keith
i need a love to make me happy
i need a love to make me happy
baby
baby make me happy
baby
baby keep me happy
the rain keeps falling out there somewhere
i'm starting to feel happier
much much happier
sangria
a smoke
music plays low n cool
smooth operator smooth op-a-ra-ta
some cat was laying down a lotta soul he said
the mirror lies about your age
its raining outside
but outside doesnt exist
oh youre a lucky man
light some incense .....musk and sandalwood
baby gets out the shower half drunk already
her eyes roll a round in her head
she moves thru the dark in a slight stumble
half dressed in her costume
oh yes you look lovely my little creature
you look so.......extraordinary
you spent so long getting ready
now all sweet and dishevelled
docile and intoxicated : loves swift darts
and if you asked what year this is
why she wouldnt know
the screen flickers silently...someones mouth open
the cushions are plumped and waiting
the night tap tap tap at the little window
the clock racing
i dont want time to pass... the creature whispers rather naively
or i wish it would go on n on non....just like this she adds
what language is she talking in someone wonders i guess
the author in my head is grasping for words
the words gasp for life
sweetlife@eternity.net
the mirror reflects her in pink n white n blonde n black
she is like a foggy moon with her own reflected glow
her brown eyes are quite vacant now
she looks but doesnt seem to see
i think about how lord krishna slowed down a night
for thousands of years
and he multiplied himself into thousands
and he danced with the thousands of women
and he loved them all
and each thought she had that sly blue god to herself
and krishna whirled about himself in the rasa lila
and the other gods dropped beautiful flowers on them from the sky
and time, so in love with the lord, was induced to indeed stop
and each kiss and caress of the lord was perfect
and the young women would swoon under his divine hand
and the warm indian night
and the tigers watch on in awe
and the snakes unblinking eye mesmerized
and the white swan glides
and the pink lotus blooms
and pleasure
no not knowledge
or triumph
or power
but pleasure
this warm night traded for the cold aching morrow
this moving room for the rat race
this comely wench for old skullfaced death
this white powder for ash
this wine for christs blood
this holy smoke for the pyre
my little coquette what you tryin' to forget
myself
yourself
ourself
our selves
this night
this rain
the throbbing black vegetation
the mescaline filled cactii screaming to be eaten
the thunder of distant doors slamming
baby puts iggy n the stooges on
im so messed up i need ya here sings iggy
now i wanna be your dog
now i wanna be your dog
well come on !
the guitar incandesces in a white fizz in my frozen mind
anxiety and lust in equal partnership
i want more
i want more too she says
more n more n more
and time to stop forever
little doll i cant forget sings iggy thru the rain n the years
across the room and through other worlds
marilyn monroe naked in the pool like a killer whale
mae west manhandles the equipment
is that all you? she jokes
as you tinkle on her piano in the wee small hours
in her apartment above miracle street
brings happiness n everything sings iggy
yeah and then
i think about keith
i need a love to make me happy
i need a love to make me happy
baby
baby make me happy
baby
baby keep me happy
the rain keeps falling out there somewhere
i'm starting to feel happier
much much happier
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
i am what you say i am
1st of all
i do not know how they can be selling painkiller for 2.95
because wherever theyre getting em from
theyd be paying the wholesale price
whichd range from 10 to 12 bucks
so its possible that theyre deliberately losing money on it
to give you a good deal so you'll buy more stuff there
or its a mistake
or some weird third possibility
but if you wanna go ahead n buy one
its ok
alls fair in love n war
secondly
thank you to the people who generously subscribed yesterday
i appreciate it
it will enable me to go on writing for you
some of you are very very generous
i will endeavour to keep the standard of writing high
thirdly
i apologize to my friends n readers
for the stupid attacks
queen hazza-shotput put it best
and i cannot castigate this rascal any better than her winged words
he seems infuriated by your "love" for me
is it because he deems me unworthy
or does he want that love himself?
what is his axe hes grinding to prompt this vicious untrue vitriol?
look i hate to be criticized of course...dont we all?
but i wont delete it
but i'll delete unwarranted attacks on my dear patrons and subscribers
i walked in the manly boatshed the other night
and when i saw mission there....i felt like it was gonna be alright
hes a bloody lovely bloke...a real diamond geezer
why do i wanna see him attacked for being my mate?
eekie has loyally supported my artistic career since it began
encouraging me
sending me a load of art bits n pieces
shes swallowed losses when we were ripped off
shes worked tirelessly to get my exhibition ready
and shes not afraid to tell me i'm wrong
this wonderful lady has made my painting career happen
almost single handedly
you dont think it makes my blood boil to read that bloody tripe...?!
but
my people
you made me proud
you handled yourselves with aplomb
with witty n pithy answers
i applaud you
and so we wonder who this nuisance is
and i gotta good idea
think someone who is disgruntled with me
think an american bloke....maybe a musician...?
am i getting warm?
actually i dont care
lets just ignore 'im
and i'll delete his dribble as i find it...
my brother russsell has a doco on sbs on wednesday night
i am so bloody proud of him n amy his missus
they took a negative thing
and turned it around
they gambled on an outcome
they persisted
they had faith
they spent their own dough
and voila!
a doco on telly
go on...if ya think its easy...you try n do that!
wow!
russell...look after me when you hit paydirt olde son
or i'll be givin' ya the mal tern-balls treatment on here
envy n scorn
and i gotta lot more dirt on you than him too!!
seriously tho
congratulations my bro
i love ya
you done us proud!
slimbo
i do not know how they can be selling painkiller for 2.95
because wherever theyre getting em from
theyd be paying the wholesale price
whichd range from 10 to 12 bucks
so its possible that theyre deliberately losing money on it
to give you a good deal so you'll buy more stuff there
or its a mistake
or some weird third possibility
but if you wanna go ahead n buy one
its ok
alls fair in love n war
secondly
thank you to the people who generously subscribed yesterday
i appreciate it
it will enable me to go on writing for you
some of you are very very generous
i will endeavour to keep the standard of writing high
thirdly
i apologize to my friends n readers
for the stupid attacks
queen hazza-shotput put it best
and i cannot castigate this rascal any better than her winged words
he seems infuriated by your "love" for me
is it because he deems me unworthy
or does he want that love himself?
what is his axe hes grinding to prompt this vicious untrue vitriol?
look i hate to be criticized of course...dont we all?
but i wont delete it
but i'll delete unwarranted attacks on my dear patrons and subscribers
i walked in the manly boatshed the other night
and when i saw mission there....i felt like it was gonna be alright
hes a bloody lovely bloke...a real diamond geezer
why do i wanna see him attacked for being my mate?
eekie has loyally supported my artistic career since it began
encouraging me
sending me a load of art bits n pieces
shes swallowed losses when we were ripped off
shes worked tirelessly to get my exhibition ready
and shes not afraid to tell me i'm wrong
this wonderful lady has made my painting career happen
almost single handedly
you dont think it makes my blood boil to read that bloody tripe...?!
but
my people
you made me proud
you handled yourselves with aplomb
with witty n pithy answers
i applaud you
and so we wonder who this nuisance is
and i gotta good idea
think someone who is disgruntled with me
think an american bloke....maybe a musician...?
am i getting warm?
actually i dont care
lets just ignore 'im
and i'll delete his dribble as i find it...
my brother russsell has a doco on sbs on wednesday night
i am so bloody proud of him n amy his missus
they took a negative thing
and turned it around
they gambled on an outcome
they persisted
they had faith
they spent their own dough
and voila!
a doco on telly
go on...if ya think its easy...you try n do that!
wow!
russell...look after me when you hit paydirt olde son
or i'll be givin' ya the mal tern-balls treatment on here
envy n scorn
and i gotta lot more dirt on you than him too!!
seriously tho
congratulations my bro
i love ya
you done us proud!
slimbo
Monday, October 20, 2008
if you were me
youd be much smarter
youd know what to do
shave off that beard
get some decent clothes
get rid of all those wrinkles
do some commercial stuff
some more modern/classic stuff
act my age but get younger
be nicer to people but get what i want
you wouldnt be obsessed with money honey
itd all just flow in without even trying
youd knock out a few more utmw's
youd do more charity stuff
tour more in england n america..you got millions of fans
youd write a perfect fucking blogge everyday
one full of hope blessings humour and poignancy
youd be warm open loving
but youd know where to draw the line
youd give up smokin' dope...just like that
and my oh my
youd never have fallen for heroin or any of that
youd have a good manager
one that cared bout ya
n believed in ya
n never ripped you off because youre a little naive
youd expect the best from people just like i do
but youd actually get it
youd raise yer kids so they all loved n respected everything holy here
youd do yoga 3 times a day and be a judo master
youd do your own books n taxes
and be totally au fait with all legalities
youd be a man for all seasons
equally at home with a gnarled old roadie
or some breathless kid doing their 1st recording session
youd be alert and calm
not over-cautious but not slack n lax either
your teeth would be white n straight
no freckles would blemish your skin
your hair would get thicker n thicker
youd be best friends with everyone with whom you crossed paths
no hard feelings
no regrets
no wondering how it might have been
youd still be on arista knocking out masterpieces that sold respectably
youd be good every night
youd never forget the words or be cranky
youd never be insipid or smirking or boring
beauty would never dazzle you nor ugliness repulse
you probably wouldnt fucking swear
you been interested in all other musicians n do yer best to help em
you'd write a hit childrens book
youd be onstage at the opera house playing macbeth
youd never bitterly laugh at more successful less worthy singers
youd never get angry n despondent n thrash about
youd never flounder....youd always swim like the dolphins can swim
youd invest all yer money wisely
youd own homes in aust,eng,us n sverige
god your swedish would be perfect by now
n youd have a green card
and a carte blanche
and a black beemer
and a clean record
and a new leaf
youd never need advice
but if you got it
youd know whether to take it or not
youd trust the right people n never get let down
youd mistrust the right people n always be proved right
no mistakes
no blunders
no lapses of taste
no bad rhymes
no false starts
no bum notes
no parking tickets
no fear
youd be a bloody masterpiece
oh god i wish i was you being me
and one other thing youd never do
if you were me
youd never blab it all out on a blog
like i do
wouldya?
youd know what to do
shave off that beard
get some decent clothes
get rid of all those wrinkles
do some commercial stuff
some more modern/classic stuff
act my age but get younger
be nicer to people but get what i want
you wouldnt be obsessed with money honey
itd all just flow in without even trying
youd knock out a few more utmw's
youd do more charity stuff
tour more in england n america..you got millions of fans
youd write a perfect fucking blogge everyday
one full of hope blessings humour and poignancy
youd be warm open loving
but youd know where to draw the line
youd give up smokin' dope...just like that
and my oh my
youd never have fallen for heroin or any of that
youd have a good manager
one that cared bout ya
n believed in ya
n never ripped you off because youre a little naive
youd expect the best from people just like i do
but youd actually get it
youd raise yer kids so they all loved n respected everything holy here
youd do yoga 3 times a day and be a judo master
youd do your own books n taxes
and be totally au fait with all legalities
youd be a man for all seasons
equally at home with a gnarled old roadie
or some breathless kid doing their 1st recording session
youd be alert and calm
not over-cautious but not slack n lax either
your teeth would be white n straight
no freckles would blemish your skin
your hair would get thicker n thicker
youd be best friends with everyone with whom you crossed paths
no hard feelings
no regrets
no wondering how it might have been
youd still be on arista knocking out masterpieces that sold respectably
youd be good every night
youd never forget the words or be cranky
youd never be insipid or smirking or boring
beauty would never dazzle you nor ugliness repulse
you probably wouldnt fucking swear
you been interested in all other musicians n do yer best to help em
you'd write a hit childrens book
youd be onstage at the opera house playing macbeth
youd never bitterly laugh at more successful less worthy singers
youd never get angry n despondent n thrash about
youd never flounder....youd always swim like the dolphins can swim
youd invest all yer money wisely
youd own homes in aust,eng,us n sverige
god your swedish would be perfect by now
n youd have a green card
and a carte blanche
and a black beemer
and a clean record
and a new leaf
youd never need advice
but if you got it
youd know whether to take it or not
youd trust the right people n never get let down
youd mistrust the right people n always be proved right
no mistakes
no blunders
no lapses of taste
no bad rhymes
no false starts
no bum notes
no parking tickets
no fear
youd be a bloody masterpiece
oh god i wish i was you being me
and one other thing youd never do
if you were me
youd never blab it all out on a blog
like i do
wouldya?
Sunday, October 19, 2008
boatly manshed and tamarama-lama-ding dong
1st things first
manly is a beach across the harbour from bondi
on the other side of the heads
it was called manly cos some british imbecile
thought the natives there were more "manly" than some others
is that a bullshit name or what?
natalie is attacked by cockroaches in the car on way to gig
(cockies in my computer,cockies in my car)
we have to stop to nail em
and chuck em out
we get to manly gig
its ok
about 120 people
not too shabby
it was 15 bucks to get in
i had agreed to take 6 bucks per person
the gig was good
mission was there
di n therese
i played pretty good
it was fun
i enjoyed myself
sold a little merch
aha
but afterwards
when i go to get paid
the lovely lady from the boatshed
says the "promoter" says he'll pay me next week
aha
do you wanna call him in the office ?she says
we go into the office
the promoter is a freelance guy
who just happened to email me
(the boatshed n their people were not involved)
the boatshed girl wanted to pay me...
i rang the promoter on his mobile
i was also realising out of 1500 bucks
i was only scheduled to get 600
which seemed a little off kilter
seeing how i pulled the people
but ok
i had agreed to it
i 'm stoopid like that
but now mr promoter doesnt want to pay me
he says he cant pay me without an invoice
is that true i ask the girl
no she says
i can pay you
then he says again he'll collect the money
and pay me next week
no
i say
i'll take my bit now
you collect yours when you like
ok he says
but youre only getting 4 hundred
i start to get angry with this person now
why should i get 4 hundred
when it was 6 bucks per person i ask
he says
cos i told you 4 bucks per person
we contradict each other for a while
but when he concedes it was 6 bucks
he then says
that he lost money on the annandale on tuesday
thats too bad i say but not my problem
oh yes it is he says
they were part of a package deal
(this fellow must seriously think i came down in the last shower
i been in the bizness 30 fuckin years
ive done business with billy graham n clive davis n michael chugg
and i heard everything
but this is surely the limit)
eventually i express my disgust at this man
and my determination to get my six hungey
WASNT HE HAPPY WITH SITTIN' AT FUCKIN' HOME
MAKIN ' 900 HUNDRED BUCKS OUTTA ME???
happy ending
the girl pays me my 600
says the manager of boatshed will be very angry with
mr promoter
and wants me to play back there soon
booked direct thru them
which means i'll get the whole door charge (minus supports)
ok
come home very angry with that nasty dishonest man
i know one "promoter" in sydney who owes thousands n thousands
to struggling players
he laughs about it n thinks its cute to rip you off
he owed me some dough
i rang him up n he laughed
and i threatened to come around n wring his fucking neck
he decided maybe to pay up
but i know he still owes a fortune in unpaid fees to broke players
ripping off naive musicians......what big men!
this smorning played at tamarama whamma bhamma gamma bink bank
the most glamourous n dangerous beach in sydnee baybee
same band as sat nite
part of sculpture by the sea celebration
all acoustic today
isolde was there filming it
stick it up on you tube, darlin' if ya like
we did providence n all over now n medicine ball n randwick bells
n bedside light n secret country n me n my arrow
we were laid back n breezy as befits a gig on le beach
nasty note: there was a sausage sizzle ....oh good what a stench
gig cost me 50 bucks in taxis
too bad
it was a hoot
over n out
killer
manly is a beach across the harbour from bondi
on the other side of the heads
it was called manly cos some british imbecile
thought the natives there were more "manly" than some others
is that a bullshit name or what?
natalie is attacked by cockroaches in the car on way to gig
(cockies in my computer,cockies in my car)
we have to stop to nail em
and chuck em out
we get to manly gig
its ok
about 120 people
not too shabby
it was 15 bucks to get in
i had agreed to take 6 bucks per person
the gig was good
mission was there
di n therese
i played pretty good
it was fun
i enjoyed myself
sold a little merch
aha
but afterwards
when i go to get paid
the lovely lady from the boatshed
says the "promoter" says he'll pay me next week
aha
do you wanna call him in the office ?she says
we go into the office
the promoter is a freelance guy
who just happened to email me
(the boatshed n their people were not involved)
the boatshed girl wanted to pay me...
i rang the promoter on his mobile
i was also realising out of 1500 bucks
i was only scheduled to get 600
which seemed a little off kilter
seeing how i pulled the people
but ok
i had agreed to it
i 'm stoopid like that
but now mr promoter doesnt want to pay me
he says he cant pay me without an invoice
is that true i ask the girl
no she says
i can pay you
then he says again he'll collect the money
and pay me next week
no
i say
i'll take my bit now
you collect yours when you like
ok he says
but youre only getting 4 hundred
i start to get angry with this person now
why should i get 4 hundred
when it was 6 bucks per person i ask
he says
cos i told you 4 bucks per person
we contradict each other for a while
but when he concedes it was 6 bucks
he then says
that he lost money on the annandale on tuesday
thats too bad i say but not my problem
oh yes it is he says
they were part of a package deal
(this fellow must seriously think i came down in the last shower
i been in the bizness 30 fuckin years
ive done business with billy graham n clive davis n michael chugg
and i heard everything
but this is surely the limit)
eventually i express my disgust at this man
and my determination to get my six hungey
WASNT HE HAPPY WITH SITTIN' AT FUCKIN' HOME
MAKIN ' 900 HUNDRED BUCKS OUTTA ME???
happy ending
the girl pays me my 600
says the manager of boatshed will be very angry with
mr promoter
and wants me to play back there soon
booked direct thru them
which means i'll get the whole door charge (minus supports)
ok
come home very angry with that nasty dishonest man
i know one "promoter" in sydney who owes thousands n thousands
to struggling players
he laughs about it n thinks its cute to rip you off
he owed me some dough
i rang him up n he laughed
and i threatened to come around n wring his fucking neck
he decided maybe to pay up
but i know he still owes a fortune in unpaid fees to broke players
ripping off naive musicians......what big men!
this smorning played at tamarama whamma bhamma gamma bink bank
the most glamourous n dangerous beach in sydnee baybee
same band as sat nite
part of sculpture by the sea celebration
all acoustic today
isolde was there filming it
stick it up on you tube, darlin' if ya like
we did providence n all over now n medicine ball n randwick bells
n bedside light n secret country n me n my arrow
we were laid back n breezy as befits a gig on le beach
nasty note: there was a sausage sizzle ....oh good what a stench
gig cost me 50 bucks in taxis
too bad
it was a hoot
over n out
killer
Saturday, October 18, 2008
sculpture party blues
if you really love your time being
if yer a dyed in the wool killer lover
if you think yer humble hero is the bees knees
and you hate reading about my disappointments
then you should stop reading now
ok
hmm
most of you still reading
i guess yer curiosity is stronger than yer love for ttb then
anyhow...
i wake up today with 4 extra gurls all giggling n carrying on
the doodles had a sleep over
and we had jasmine sophie magda n coco joining us
the woofle wasnt asleep until after midnight
being completely wound up on cakey and older kids
when i got 'ome from me gig
nks sittin' there talking the woofle down like shes had a bad trip
the woofle is stretched out twitchin' n sweatin'
her bodys packed it in
but her eyes still glance round the room furtively
shes so wound up
does she even recognize or say anything to her olde weary daddy?
nope
eventually she fades away into a mega sleep....thank god
but the other kids going all night long
giggling singing
hissing whispering
talking moving about
even now i keep begging em to be quiet
but they not listening
eve n aurora fomenting revolt
anyway
beyond all this gurlie malarkey
yesterday
rehearsed in the morning
an ad hoc band getting together to play for sculptures by the sea
featuring moi on 12 n vox
brendan gallagher on vox n electric six
bernie hayes on vox n electric six
jonny z on bass (one of best there is)
pete odoherty on ac 6 n vox
dec o doherty (petes son) on drums
we rehearsed in a tres cool underground studio in alexandria
part of an ex-mexican style villa like you might see in la
in fact with the weather n everything
i felt very much on this particular corner
that i was in la
i drive there with brendan who lives in my street
oh that window isnt working he says pointing to mine
uh ok i say
and uh the a/c aint working neither says bg
but we'll have the other windows down he assures me
cos its a warmish day
until bg gets a call about some music hes working on
and all the windows go up and i stifle n suffocate
in the oxygenless atmosphere of this silly saab
anyway
the studio is great
we have a great rehearsal
each singer ll do 3 or 4 each
the songs are a mixture of covers n our own
walk a mile in my shoes by joe south
bernie sings that
pete sings nilssons me n my arrow
i did randwick bells n walk on the wild side
etc
anyway the gig was inside the walls of the bondi pavillion
it was a perfect clear warm night with cool breezes
there was free grog n much slapping of backs
we get on stage
(after a few too many "steve kilbey" jokes
by smartass compere simon from the abc
and
if he continues sunday
the killer will retaliate
friends or no friends)
(sample: we got some top rate musos up next AND steve kilbey)
anyhow we do 1st song
providence as usual i guess
lovely rambling rollicking version
i get in the mood
out here under the stars
apparently i'm not coming thru that good with the p.a.
but i'm blissfully ignorant
put me all into it
everyone playing great
we finish
wait for it
nothing
did fucking one person in the crowd
other than amanda brown n my mate nelg clap?
did they fuck!!
like a fighter taking a hammering too early on
i'm just lost the wind right outta my sails
(and sales too i guess)
no nothing from the crowd
who are actually starting to leave
the other guys sing some songs
they get meagre applause
but at least something
my turn comes back
we do randwick bells (its in the eastern subs)
a nice aching version
i try to try again
we finish
nothing
fuck em
i keep mah head down
i play the rest of the night in a blur
strumming along
halfway thru the nite
my guitar goes from inaudible to unbearable in the foldback
i say i dont wanna play milky way to others in band
they kinda agree until this bint jumps up n asks for it
primed by host smart alecs little impersonation of me singin' it...
so the band all suddenly going
we gotta play it
i reluctantly n with a heavy heart
and with not one ounce of sincerity or feeling
with my eyes closed n my pulse racing
with my cheeks blushing
and a terrible anger somewhere inside
i try to sing
my fuckin' mike aint even working
fuck it! i say to the others
i dont wanna play it
but they n audience kinda demand it
it would be real churlish to not do it now
bernie gives me his mike
wow he could hear himself n everything...!
and i do it
in a cold fugue
i bark out the stupid fuckin' words
that make these wankers happy
sho'enuff
they all deleriously waltz about
suddenly 'aving such a good time
wish i knew what you were looking for they all sing
mercifully it ends
even then they clap briefly n...its over
i pack up and a few people come up
to say that utmw is blah blah blah
as if i really look like i care at this stage
finally
as just a weird extra stupid thing
a lady who quite frankly
i woulda thought was a very tough lesbian
with short black hair n blokes clothes
was following me about
as i tried to pack up my malfunctioning gear
saying things like
youre god
and looking at me and seeing a vision of some golden apollo
instead of a cranky old disappointed bastard in his mid fifties
who was tired of casting his uncultured pearls
before these particular swine...
to make matters worse
she was kinda mumbling her deifying praises
causing me to have to ask several times what it was
or just suffer her abject adoration as she muttered
like a nun saying her rosary
no there was nothing wrong with that i guess
nor am i ridiculing this lady at all
except everything considering it was just the limit
my friend nelg drifted away with that sad look in his eyes
that "killer yer wasting yer talent here" look
finally gotta lift home with jonny z
and came in to find the woofle
all dressed up with nowhere to go
hey
but i got paid already
am i lucky
or
unlucky...?
i cant decide
the band again playing between 10 am n noon
tamarama beach sydney on sunday
or on abc radio nationwide
if yer a dyed in the wool killer lover
if you think yer humble hero is the bees knees
and you hate reading about my disappointments
then you should stop reading now
ok
hmm
most of you still reading
i guess yer curiosity is stronger than yer love for ttb then
anyhow...
i wake up today with 4 extra gurls all giggling n carrying on
the doodles had a sleep over
and we had jasmine sophie magda n coco joining us
the woofle wasnt asleep until after midnight
being completely wound up on cakey and older kids
when i got 'ome from me gig
nks sittin' there talking the woofle down like shes had a bad trip
the woofle is stretched out twitchin' n sweatin'
her bodys packed it in
but her eyes still glance round the room furtively
shes so wound up
does she even recognize or say anything to her olde weary daddy?
nope
eventually she fades away into a mega sleep....thank god
but the other kids going all night long
giggling singing
hissing whispering
talking moving about
even now i keep begging em to be quiet
but they not listening
eve n aurora fomenting revolt
anyway
beyond all this gurlie malarkey
yesterday
rehearsed in the morning
an ad hoc band getting together to play for sculptures by the sea
featuring moi on 12 n vox
brendan gallagher on vox n electric six
bernie hayes on vox n electric six
jonny z on bass (one of best there is)
pete odoherty on ac 6 n vox
dec o doherty (petes son) on drums
we rehearsed in a tres cool underground studio in alexandria
part of an ex-mexican style villa like you might see in la
in fact with the weather n everything
i felt very much on this particular corner
that i was in la
i drive there with brendan who lives in my street
oh that window isnt working he says pointing to mine
uh ok i say
and uh the a/c aint working neither says bg
but we'll have the other windows down he assures me
cos its a warmish day
until bg gets a call about some music hes working on
and all the windows go up and i stifle n suffocate
in the oxygenless atmosphere of this silly saab
anyway
the studio is great
we have a great rehearsal
each singer ll do 3 or 4 each
the songs are a mixture of covers n our own
walk a mile in my shoes by joe south
bernie sings that
pete sings nilssons me n my arrow
i did randwick bells n walk on the wild side
etc
anyway the gig was inside the walls of the bondi pavillion
it was a perfect clear warm night with cool breezes
there was free grog n much slapping of backs
we get on stage
(after a few too many "steve kilbey" jokes
by smartass compere simon from the abc
and
if he continues sunday
the killer will retaliate
friends or no friends)
(sample: we got some top rate musos up next AND steve kilbey)
anyhow we do 1st song
providence as usual i guess
lovely rambling rollicking version
i get in the mood
out here under the stars
apparently i'm not coming thru that good with the p.a.
but i'm blissfully ignorant
put me all into it
everyone playing great
we finish
wait for it
nothing
did fucking one person in the crowd
other than amanda brown n my mate nelg clap?
did they fuck!!
like a fighter taking a hammering too early on
i'm just lost the wind right outta my sails
(and sales too i guess)
no nothing from the crowd
who are actually starting to leave
the other guys sing some songs
they get meagre applause
but at least something
my turn comes back
we do randwick bells (its in the eastern subs)
a nice aching version
i try to try again
we finish
nothing
fuck em
i keep mah head down
i play the rest of the night in a blur
strumming along
halfway thru the nite
my guitar goes from inaudible to unbearable in the foldback
i say i dont wanna play milky way to others in band
they kinda agree until this bint jumps up n asks for it
primed by host smart alecs little impersonation of me singin' it...
so the band all suddenly going
we gotta play it
i reluctantly n with a heavy heart
and with not one ounce of sincerity or feeling
with my eyes closed n my pulse racing
with my cheeks blushing
and a terrible anger somewhere inside
i try to sing
my fuckin' mike aint even working
fuck it! i say to the others
i dont wanna play it
but they n audience kinda demand it
it would be real churlish to not do it now
bernie gives me his mike
wow he could hear himself n everything...!
and i do it
in a cold fugue
i bark out the stupid fuckin' words
that make these wankers happy
sho'enuff
they all deleriously waltz about
suddenly 'aving such a good time
wish i knew what you were looking for they all sing
mercifully it ends
even then they clap briefly n...its over
i pack up and a few people come up
to say that utmw is blah blah blah
as if i really look like i care at this stage
finally
as just a weird extra stupid thing
a lady who quite frankly
i woulda thought was a very tough lesbian
with short black hair n blokes clothes
was following me about
as i tried to pack up my malfunctioning gear
saying things like
youre god
and looking at me and seeing a vision of some golden apollo
instead of a cranky old disappointed bastard in his mid fifties
who was tired of casting his uncultured pearls
before these particular swine...
to make matters worse
she was kinda mumbling her deifying praises
causing me to have to ask several times what it was
or just suffer her abject adoration as she muttered
like a nun saying her rosary
no there was nothing wrong with that i guess
nor am i ridiculing this lady at all
except everything considering it was just the limit
my friend nelg drifted away with that sad look in his eyes
that "killer yer wasting yer talent here" look
finally gotta lift home with jonny z
and came in to find the woofle
all dressed up with nowhere to go
hey
but i got paid already
am i lucky
or
unlucky...?
i cant decide
the band again playing between 10 am n noon
tamarama beach sydney on sunday
or on abc radio nationwide
Friday, October 17, 2008
celebration of the birthday of the.....WOOFLE
scarlet virginia kilbey turns three today 17th
"i'm free" shouts the woofle this smorning
the woofle more difficult than the other 4 put together
the demanding complaining fussy little turkey
she got a pair of hi-heeled princess slippers
(jesus christ!)
and a princess plastic scooter from toys r us
old dead walt dizz-knee doing a great trade out of la woofle
who has cinderella bing bongs
sno-white blah blahs
jasmine nik naks
and ariel the mermaid coronation scales n gill set
we got princess handbags
princess tea bags
and when i play cricket i have a princess ballbag
we eat priincess flakes with princess sweetener
with princess knives n forks
and i snort princess dust when i'm feeling naught-y
i cannot wait to see la woofle riding her scooter in her hi heels
actually if i was a little girl
i'd rather have the sea-hag kit
with the pet eels and attachable hairy wart for my chin
comes with a cauldron and 10 free jinxes
not available in utah or baghdad
yeah
so much for this levity
muse ; is that what you call it?
yeah well at least i know me sammy colon from me colon muse-y
anywell where was i
yes the woofle
now 3
she knows all the words to wolfe and outbound
the doodles got a i-shuffle each for birthday
i was as pleased as punch
when outbound n wolfe from p/killer
got to go on along with pink, abba and spice grrrls
you should hear the 3 girls singing
all this stuff
wolfe cant see....ah thats no gooood
or
hearing aurora sneering out in her jimmy stewart way
"its really tragic how they needed the music...!"
woofle is always a word or 2 behind everyone else
because she doesnt really know the words
but she sings in tune
ive raved on here about the woofle
but shes got some starpower n charisma
shes got presence
shes no longer chubby
shes solidifying into a very solid kid
("steve...your daughters are so....well built!!"..local quack)
shes got pale blue eyes that search your soul
often red rimmed coz the woofle loves a good cry
she loves a tantrum and has a devastating scream
shes moody and magnificent
shes hot tempered and blustery
she will be a perfect opera singer or great actress
shes just that theatrical type
shes argumentative and contradictory
shes sulky and outrageous
shes my little woofle now turning 3 after 3 long years
and shes got clout
watch this space
you aint heard the last of la woofle
not by a long shot
"i'm free" shouts the woofle this smorning
the woofle more difficult than the other 4 put together
the demanding complaining fussy little turkey
she got a pair of hi-heeled princess slippers
(jesus christ!)
and a princess plastic scooter from toys r us
old dead walt dizz-knee doing a great trade out of la woofle
who has cinderella bing bongs
sno-white blah blahs
jasmine nik naks
and ariel the mermaid coronation scales n gill set
we got princess handbags
princess tea bags
and when i play cricket i have a princess ballbag
we eat priincess flakes with princess sweetener
with princess knives n forks
and i snort princess dust when i'm feeling naught-y
i cannot wait to see la woofle riding her scooter in her hi heels
actually if i was a little girl
i'd rather have the sea-hag kit
with the pet eels and attachable hairy wart for my chin
comes with a cauldron and 10 free jinxes
not available in utah or baghdad
yeah
so much for this levity
muse ; is that what you call it?
yeah well at least i know me sammy colon from me colon muse-y
anywell where was i
yes the woofle
now 3
she knows all the words to wolfe and outbound
the doodles got a i-shuffle each for birthday
i was as pleased as punch
when outbound n wolfe from p/killer
got to go on along with pink, abba and spice grrrls
you should hear the 3 girls singing
all this stuff
wolfe cant see....ah thats no gooood
or
hearing aurora sneering out in her jimmy stewart way
"its really tragic how they needed the music...!"
woofle is always a word or 2 behind everyone else
because she doesnt really know the words
but she sings in tune
ive raved on here about the woofle
but shes got some starpower n charisma
shes got presence
shes no longer chubby
shes solidifying into a very solid kid
("steve...your daughters are so....well built!!"..local quack)
shes got pale blue eyes that search your soul
often red rimmed coz the woofle loves a good cry
she loves a tantrum and has a devastating scream
shes moody and magnificent
shes hot tempered and blustery
she will be a perfect opera singer or great actress
shes just that theatrical type
shes argumentative and contradictory
shes sulky and outrageous
shes my little woofle now turning 3 after 3 long years
and shes got clout
watch this space
you aint heard the last of la woofle
not by a long shot
Thursday, October 16, 2008
ask the angels
a long time ago in the mid seventies
when there wasnt much good going on
i bought patti smith groups horses n i loved it
i loved its wild amateurish experimental punky poetic blah blah
patti looked great on the cover
i listened to it a lot
as her following albums came out
although i bought em
i was liking em less n less
but i still liked em
and each one had some great moments
but i guess i stopped listening after wave
tho i couldnt tell you why
in 1988 we met up with tom verlaine
who used to heartily recommend jay dee as a drummer
when ploogy went
jay was our first choice
he was a great player n a cool cat
we made the excellent priest =aura record
and he was an invaluable member
when we parted company later on
it was amicable and weve all always remained friends
jay always pops up in new york when we play there
so i was excited to get invited by him to the opera house
i 'd never seen patti play live and i was curious
i'm looking for role models who are still rockin'
in their twilight years n she fits the bill
a handful of olde rockers you can vaguely still admire
keith, marianne faithful, dylan, cohen, young
( n killer)
(ha ha)
but i gotta say patti was looking great
pretty much like she always did
on stage at any rate
i had one of them side box seats
so i saw it all in profile
gone was a lot of excess i'd heard about
with patti playing the clarinet and feedback guitar for hours
tonites show was the creme de la creme
but still that dichotomy of the new /old material remains
for her
for me
for anyone
tonites show was mainly oldies
songs going back 30 odd years now
they sounded just dandy
just like the records in fact
the band played great
surprised to see the guitarist with the hat was pattis son jackson
lenny kaye looked great :skinny and a great mop of straight grey hair
jay hadnt changed much ...dapper in a white suit behind a big kit
patti dressed in jeans biker boots t shirt n jacket
jumping around like ive seen on her videos n youtube
it was all you coulda asked for
maybe it was my sidelong position
wish i'd been out the front
but i just never got carried away
but everyone else did
inc. hoodoo gurus sitting directly in front of me
who were going wild...
this however is not the bands fault but mine
still brooding on the horrible night before
and fearing it all again on saturday
i was envious of my olde compadre jay playin' at the house
and how i wished i was up there strutting the boards
and my envy rather ruined it for me
if only i hadnt done the nite before it wouldnt have been like that
at least i'm honest....
afterwards i met the drones who played a great opening spot
the drones are a band to watch they are intensely intense!
gareth very very kindly took me backstage where i met jay
hes wearing a hearing aid now
he was the first guy i knew with really bad tinitus
and wherever he is now
i will be where i am in a couple of years
jay dee is the nicest kindest humblest guy you ever met
a true gent n scholar
i am genuinely happy for him to be doing well
after some lean years when patti stopped touring...
and he was very fit n healthy
i briefly shook hands with la smith herself
but she was tired (i guess) and not that loquacious
i walked away from the opera house
into the lonely night
full of so many conflicting emotions
i had bad dreams all night n got very little sleep
confused dreams of searching for jay n patti in the
complicated rabbit warren of rooms n corridors backstage
in the fucking sydney opera house
8th wonder of the modern world
but a little tame as far as a rocknroll gig
patti smith is a wonder still looking n sounding fantastic at 61
i realise how much i like jay
n how much i miss his amiable brooklyn humour
and i'm glad i got to see this band
you never know when it could be the last time
meanwhile
i'm playing with an ad hoc band on friday night
for sculptures by the sea party
then sat nite at manly
i beseech thee to come
mission if you aint there im gonna weep...!
then sunday from 10 till 2 playing at tamarama beach for sculptures/sea
the ad hoc band of which i am a part not the front man
features reg n pete o'doherty the artists ex mentals
johnny z n hamish who ive played with before
and brendan g n bernie h guitarists n singers
so interesting to see how i fit in with that lot
we did providence last year n it was a rambling delight
uh huh
yeah
but i'm still feeling really weird.....
strange
when there wasnt much good going on
i bought patti smith groups horses n i loved it
i loved its wild amateurish experimental punky poetic blah blah
patti looked great on the cover
i listened to it a lot
as her following albums came out
although i bought em
i was liking em less n less
but i still liked em
and each one had some great moments
but i guess i stopped listening after wave
tho i couldnt tell you why
in 1988 we met up with tom verlaine
who used to heartily recommend jay dee as a drummer
when ploogy went
jay was our first choice
he was a great player n a cool cat
we made the excellent priest =aura record
and he was an invaluable member
when we parted company later on
it was amicable and weve all always remained friends
jay always pops up in new york when we play there
so i was excited to get invited by him to the opera house
i 'd never seen patti play live and i was curious
i'm looking for role models who are still rockin'
in their twilight years n she fits the bill
a handful of olde rockers you can vaguely still admire
keith, marianne faithful, dylan, cohen, young
( n killer)
(ha ha)
but i gotta say patti was looking great
pretty much like she always did
on stage at any rate
i had one of them side box seats
so i saw it all in profile
gone was a lot of excess i'd heard about
with patti playing the clarinet and feedback guitar for hours
tonites show was the creme de la creme
but still that dichotomy of the new /old material remains
for her
for me
for anyone
tonites show was mainly oldies
songs going back 30 odd years now
they sounded just dandy
just like the records in fact
the band played great
surprised to see the guitarist with the hat was pattis son jackson
lenny kaye looked great :skinny and a great mop of straight grey hair
jay hadnt changed much ...dapper in a white suit behind a big kit
patti dressed in jeans biker boots t shirt n jacket
jumping around like ive seen on her videos n youtube
it was all you coulda asked for
maybe it was my sidelong position
wish i'd been out the front
but i just never got carried away
but everyone else did
inc. hoodoo gurus sitting directly in front of me
who were going wild...
this however is not the bands fault but mine
still brooding on the horrible night before
and fearing it all again on saturday
i was envious of my olde compadre jay playin' at the house
and how i wished i was up there strutting the boards
and my envy rather ruined it for me
if only i hadnt done the nite before it wouldnt have been like that
at least i'm honest....
afterwards i met the drones who played a great opening spot
the drones are a band to watch they are intensely intense!
gareth very very kindly took me backstage where i met jay
hes wearing a hearing aid now
he was the first guy i knew with really bad tinitus
and wherever he is now
i will be where i am in a couple of years
jay dee is the nicest kindest humblest guy you ever met
a true gent n scholar
i am genuinely happy for him to be doing well
after some lean years when patti stopped touring...
and he was very fit n healthy
i briefly shook hands with la smith herself
but she was tired (i guess) and not that loquacious
i walked away from the opera house
into the lonely night
full of so many conflicting emotions
i had bad dreams all night n got very little sleep
confused dreams of searching for jay n patti in the
complicated rabbit warren of rooms n corridors backstage
in the fucking sydney opera house
8th wonder of the modern world
but a little tame as far as a rocknroll gig
patti smith is a wonder still looking n sounding fantastic at 61
i realise how much i like jay
n how much i miss his amiable brooklyn humour
and i'm glad i got to see this band
you never know when it could be the last time
meanwhile
i'm playing with an ad hoc band on friday night
for sculptures by the sea party
then sat nite at manly
i beseech thee to come
mission if you aint there im gonna weep...!
then sunday from 10 till 2 playing at tamarama beach for sculptures/sea
the ad hoc band of which i am a part not the front man
features reg n pete o'doherty the artists ex mentals
johnny z n hamish who ive played with before
and brendan g n bernie h guitarists n singers
so interesting to see how i fit in with that lot
we did providence last year n it was a rambling delight
uh huh
yeah
but i'm still feeling really weird.....
strange
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
we got plenty of phone calls
just before ricky left
we was talkin' one day about the great lies of rocknroll
you know
you must have heard em
eg
your cheques in the mail etc
one of the greatest lies of rock is
we got plenty of phone calls
that is
you turn up and you aint sold no tickets
but someone tries to cheer you up
by saying
"we got plenty of phone calls"
me n ricky agreed
this was one of the greatest n most prevalent lies
a lie i had heard so many many times
yet i had failed to realise it actually
although i always knew in my heart of hearts what it really meant
me n ricky had a good laugh
yeah i'd be on the lookout for that one again
anyway
last night,....
well a guy emailed me a few weeks ago
would i like to play this hotel
i was offered a certain very small amount of money
which i presumed i'd get no matter what
again
i knew in my heart of hearts not to do this gig
but i fucking did...didnt i..?
could it have been worse...?
a wet tuesday
no real advertising
tho would it have made much difference..?
so i turn up
the promoters out the front
looking for punters
(a bad sign)
theres no one there
maybe 20 to 30 he says
but
"we got plenty of phone calls"
inside a kinda big venue
that coulda held 5 hundred people
with a bout 15 people
(who i am grateful for i guess)
i played miserably
i couldnt get my eyes open to focus on
all that empty space
i ran through my set in a blur
wishing it was over
could find nothing interesting funny or pithy to say
i was useless
so now even the 15 there
will never come again
after my pathetic n sad set
("sometimes when this place gets kinda empty"
ha ha ha)
am informed
that there is no money to pay me
which is understandable enuff
i dont blame anyone
i slink off home
beaten n depressed
all that for nothing!
couldnt sleep all night
now i really feel old n washed up
i really do
and i prob'ly have another hiding
coming up on this saturday night in manly
a real glutton fer punishment
ps its the doodles ninth birthday today
happy birthday eve n aurora
sk
we was talkin' one day about the great lies of rocknroll
you know
you must have heard em
eg
your cheques in the mail etc
one of the greatest lies of rock is
we got plenty of phone calls
that is
you turn up and you aint sold no tickets
but someone tries to cheer you up
by saying
"we got plenty of phone calls"
me n ricky agreed
this was one of the greatest n most prevalent lies
a lie i had heard so many many times
yet i had failed to realise it actually
although i always knew in my heart of hearts what it really meant
me n ricky had a good laugh
yeah i'd be on the lookout for that one again
anyway
last night,....
well a guy emailed me a few weeks ago
would i like to play this hotel
i was offered a certain very small amount of money
which i presumed i'd get no matter what
again
i knew in my heart of hearts not to do this gig
but i fucking did...didnt i..?
could it have been worse...?
a wet tuesday
no real advertising
tho would it have made much difference..?
so i turn up
the promoters out the front
looking for punters
(a bad sign)
theres no one there
maybe 20 to 30 he says
but
"we got plenty of phone calls"
inside a kinda big venue
that coulda held 5 hundred people
with a bout 15 people
(who i am grateful for i guess)
i played miserably
i couldnt get my eyes open to focus on
all that empty space
i ran through my set in a blur
wishing it was over
could find nothing interesting funny or pithy to say
i was useless
so now even the 15 there
will never come again
after my pathetic n sad set
("sometimes when this place gets kinda empty"
ha ha ha)
am informed
that there is no money to pay me
which is understandable enuff
i dont blame anyone
i slink off home
beaten n depressed
all that for nothing!
couldnt sleep all night
now i really feel old n washed up
i really do
and i prob'ly have another hiding
coming up on this saturday night in manly
a real glutton fer punishment
ps its the doodles ninth birthday today
happy birthday eve n aurora
sk
Monday, October 13, 2008
weirds rise and demise
time was catching up with me
it always had been
my dream world had ruptured
and the bitch i called baby had come flowing in
the gigs and exhibitions had dropped right off
a rainy afternoon it had always been
i wait for her down by the docks
i'm pretty nervous these days
i see things
i overhear conversations from a great distance
now i'm really broke
and broken too
my flat is a mess
i aint paid the rent
nobody home
but babys home
what does she do but sleep all day
at night she goes out somewhere i suppose
she comes in late
early in the morning
like a lost lamb
she drifts within
baby where have you been i ask
nowhere daddy she says as she floats thru the rooms
this is breaking my heart i say
what exactly is it thats breaking that heart of yours she asks
all this i gesture the room the piano the empty bottles
the dead flowers
the dishes
the cds lying around
nevermind all that she says kissing and soothing me down
i love you she says with her fingers crossed and her eyes vacant
i touch her in different places
oh daddy you are weird she murmurs
who did you say was weird? i suddenly snap
you baby you you are weird...she says
no dont ever call me that i say getting cross
look in the mirror you fool she saying
no this is fucking bullshit i say
then look in the mirror big daddy...see how weird you are
i stumble to the mirror in the bathroom
babys had a bubble bath
the room smells so sweet and warm
baby lies in the bath reading magazines eating chocolates
she lies in the bath drinking champagne n smoking hash oil
now i look in the mirror
black mirror ugly mirror
oh god i am weird
yes yes its me baby i'm babbling
i'm in here in the mirror
i can see it all so clearly now
baby in the bath wriggles about
weird and strange
i remember now
the genesis of weird
how he came to be
out of nearly nothing
like all of us he said
weird as in sick
weird as in weirded out
as in mixed up in everything
fingers in all those pies
a foot in the grave
a nose for trouble
a head full of bad ideas
ooh he liked to hurt em
hurt em good and leave em in the cold
he hit and ran
is that weird that its only really me
have i done it all to myself
i begin to laugh with relief
baby in the bath laughs too and giggles coquettishly
baby nude as usual and dangerously sloshed
why you laughing daddy she asks
because because i laugh
i am weird i am weird indeed
look at your pupils like saucers she said
all the better to see you in the dark someone says
look at your beard all white she said
and only yesterday .......i said
only yesterday you were young she said
i looked in the mirror
i was so changed
i hardly new myself
youth had been so brief
a day or 2 maybe
then this
how long will i be old i cried out
and baby laughed as she lied in the bath
ha ha ha she laughed and splashed about
no no no
i said
the face in the mirror mouthed the words
weird coming through me
weird appeared
mr weird himself
at the back of all mirrors
behind every wall
inside all those coffins
in bed with your wife
dealing from the bottom of the pack
baby just lay there
weird was smiling at her
you two know each other
i hear myself saying
yes you could say that weird said lewdly
i felt suddenly breathless
baby and .....this
i take good care of my girls he said
weird and his entourage
busy old mr weird
the arranger
the fixer
the detailer
the receiver
i remember he had said come and see me...whatever you need
thats where i met my baby
wasnt it?
then one day i knocked on the door of this niteclub
in the where-house districts
down by the terminus at the end of earle street
a skinny guy opened the door
what you want? he barked at me
mr weird....i said
his face turned black
mr weirds dead, mate
dont ever ask for him again!
the skinny guy pushed me away
and closed the door
i was left hanging out and freezing in the cold
no where to turn to
no one to go
i was in the criminal milieu now
besides inside myself i was confused
i only ever used my shooter on myself
and my only crime was my gross stupidity
yeah i killed off some characters....in a book
but mr weird only had 3 endings
jails
institutions
or
death
i didnt wanna see baby go down or get fried
i didnt want to see her tried and framed
i stood up quickly and banged my headline
my agent had warned me
youre fucking finished he said
i'm pulling the plug said his partner
weird was there too laughing
your day is over he said
when i couldnt pay off babys pearls and wine
when i couldnt come up with the deposit for her
when i was old and busted up
she left right away
left right
left right
left right
halt
a limo pulls up
a hand opens a door
i see it all from my window
baby jumps in
a man in a uniform collects her suitcases
a man with no face
a man with no life
i just stand there
i remember all this
as mr weird stands in my bathroom
baby gets out the bath
he hands her a towel
and nuzzles her throat
what you gonna do he laughs
its then i realize how much i love her
as shes falling into those arms again
oh god ive been a blind fool
i'm muttering something
i feeling in my pockets for something
i dunno what tho
someone hands me a gun
a gun?
me?
a gun a gun a gun
go on use it they say
go on shoot they all say
this is a toy i say incredulously
its real baby says baby
fire
fire
fire
the shots ricochet round n round
bang
bang
bang
i blast away at the night
i blast away at the sky and stars
i blast away at the past
i blast away at my self
the cops show up
throw down your baby and come out says the megaphone
i never hurt no one i scream out
much laughter outside
baby hands me a phone
whats that for i ask
you entitled to one more call she says
call an undertaker someone suggests
more laughter
baby looks sad
mr weird looks tired
his eyes are blank and unsmiling
you got me he says at long last
you got me good
someone claps and laughs but is soon silent
music fades up in the background
beautiful mancini strings playing the saddest song of all
the cops break down the open door
the cavalry arrive
and the romans at the foot of the cross
realise that theyve crucified the wrong guy
why is life so fucking sad baby i ask out
as i'm taken away
as i'm led below
as hades signs my incoming documents
and wearily pluto stamps my passport
as i lie in my bed eating my heart out
as i agonize through physio with my crushed limbs
as a quiet night falls down
and i get a new face in a new town
where no one knows me
and i try to forget baby
and i try to just get on with it
and go "straight"
it always had been
my dream world had ruptured
and the bitch i called baby had come flowing in
the gigs and exhibitions had dropped right off
a rainy afternoon it had always been
i wait for her down by the docks
i'm pretty nervous these days
i see things
i overhear conversations from a great distance
now i'm really broke
and broken too
my flat is a mess
i aint paid the rent
nobody home
but babys home
what does she do but sleep all day
at night she goes out somewhere i suppose
she comes in late
early in the morning
like a lost lamb
she drifts within
baby where have you been i ask
nowhere daddy she says as she floats thru the rooms
this is breaking my heart i say
what exactly is it thats breaking that heart of yours she asks
all this i gesture the room the piano the empty bottles
the dead flowers
the dishes
the cds lying around
nevermind all that she says kissing and soothing me down
i love you she says with her fingers crossed and her eyes vacant
i touch her in different places
oh daddy you are weird she murmurs
who did you say was weird? i suddenly snap
you baby you you are weird...she says
no dont ever call me that i say getting cross
look in the mirror you fool she saying
no this is fucking bullshit i say
then look in the mirror big daddy...see how weird you are
i stumble to the mirror in the bathroom
babys had a bubble bath
the room smells so sweet and warm
baby lies in the bath reading magazines eating chocolates
she lies in the bath drinking champagne n smoking hash oil
now i look in the mirror
black mirror ugly mirror
oh god i am weird
yes yes its me baby i'm babbling
i'm in here in the mirror
i can see it all so clearly now
baby in the bath wriggles about
weird and strange
i remember now
the genesis of weird
how he came to be
out of nearly nothing
like all of us he said
weird as in sick
weird as in weirded out
as in mixed up in everything
fingers in all those pies
a foot in the grave
a nose for trouble
a head full of bad ideas
ooh he liked to hurt em
hurt em good and leave em in the cold
he hit and ran
is that weird that its only really me
have i done it all to myself
i begin to laugh with relief
baby in the bath laughs too and giggles coquettishly
baby nude as usual and dangerously sloshed
why you laughing daddy she asks
because because i laugh
i am weird i am weird indeed
look at your pupils like saucers she said
all the better to see you in the dark someone says
look at your beard all white she said
and only yesterday .......i said
only yesterday you were young she said
i looked in the mirror
i was so changed
i hardly new myself
youth had been so brief
a day or 2 maybe
then this
how long will i be old i cried out
and baby laughed as she lied in the bath
ha ha ha she laughed and splashed about
no no no
i said
the face in the mirror mouthed the words
weird coming through me
weird appeared
mr weird himself
at the back of all mirrors
behind every wall
inside all those coffins
in bed with your wife
dealing from the bottom of the pack
baby just lay there
weird was smiling at her
you two know each other
i hear myself saying
yes you could say that weird said lewdly
i felt suddenly breathless
baby and .....this
i take good care of my girls he said
weird and his entourage
busy old mr weird
the arranger
the fixer
the detailer
the receiver
i remember he had said come and see me...whatever you need
thats where i met my baby
wasnt it?
then one day i knocked on the door of this niteclub
in the where-house districts
down by the terminus at the end of earle street
a skinny guy opened the door
what you want? he barked at me
mr weird....i said
his face turned black
mr weirds dead, mate
dont ever ask for him again!
the skinny guy pushed me away
and closed the door
i was left hanging out and freezing in the cold
no where to turn to
no one to go
i was in the criminal milieu now
besides inside myself i was confused
i only ever used my shooter on myself
and my only crime was my gross stupidity
yeah i killed off some characters....in a book
but mr weird only had 3 endings
jails
institutions
or
death
i didnt wanna see baby go down or get fried
i didnt want to see her tried and framed
i stood up quickly and banged my headline
my agent had warned me
youre fucking finished he said
i'm pulling the plug said his partner
weird was there too laughing
your day is over he said
when i couldnt pay off babys pearls and wine
when i couldnt come up with the deposit for her
when i was old and busted up
she left right away
left right
left right
left right
halt
a limo pulls up
a hand opens a door
i see it all from my window
baby jumps in
a man in a uniform collects her suitcases
a man with no face
a man with no life
i just stand there
i remember all this
as mr weird stands in my bathroom
baby gets out the bath
he hands her a towel
and nuzzles her throat
what you gonna do he laughs
its then i realize how much i love her
as shes falling into those arms again
oh god ive been a blind fool
i'm muttering something
i feeling in my pockets for something
i dunno what tho
someone hands me a gun
a gun?
me?
a gun a gun a gun
go on use it they say
go on shoot they all say
this is a toy i say incredulously
its real baby says baby
fire
fire
fire
the shots ricochet round n round
bang
bang
bang
i blast away at the night
i blast away at the sky and stars
i blast away at the past
i blast away at my self
the cops show up
throw down your baby and come out says the megaphone
i never hurt no one i scream out
much laughter outside
baby hands me a phone
whats that for i ask
you entitled to one more call she says
call an undertaker someone suggests
more laughter
baby looks sad
mr weird looks tired
his eyes are blank and unsmiling
you got me he says at long last
you got me good
someone claps and laughs but is soon silent
music fades up in the background
beautiful mancini strings playing the saddest song of all
the cops break down the open door
the cavalry arrive
and the romans at the foot of the cross
realise that theyve crucified the wrong guy
why is life so fucking sad baby i ask out
as i'm taken away
as i'm led below
as hades signs my incoming documents
and wearily pluto stamps my passport
as i lie in my bed eating my heart out
as i agonize through physio with my crushed limbs
as a quiet night falls down
and i get a new face in a new town
where no one knows me
and i try to forget baby
and i try to just get on with it
and go "straight"
more weird-ness
inner city bar
mr w sits in the back room
you play poker he asks
he grabs your lips and squeezes them together
he brushes your arm with his bad hand
opens a coke
in the silent room you can hear it fizzing
baby sits by his side
i'd hate to ever hurt you she said
a cat screams outside in an alley
cars pull up n drive off
cockroaches sprint from one greasy corner to the next
rats sleep in the walls
the first card falls
the queen of hearts
that must be baby
sweet baby face
little babycino
your brain scrambles madly
queen of hearts
the red cells
the blue cells
the tireless aorta ever beating
monarch of blood engorged dirty drum
squeezing that bloody ichor round your body
queen of heart-ache
baby smiles distantly
the second card falls
jack of diamonds
is that me
diamonds are forever baby said
baby gave me 2 white diamond shaped pills
diamonds are a girls best friend she said
i had swallowed them doubtfully
they stuck in my chest and their bitter taste scorched my throat
the jack of all trades...wasnt that just like me
a real jack ass someone else said behind a desk
the third card fell
of course
the fucking joker!
it was mr w's card
everyone there laughed
i relax my grip on my chair
my armpits are gushing ice cold sweat
my stomach feels empty and sick
my feet are frozen
my teeth chatter faintly
keep still ! hisses a cruel voice
maybe we should take a ride baby said
she had been lying on her stomach
looking back at me and all her past
the motel had a little balcony
someone had filmed us as she stood at the edge
i was kneeling down behind
baby was smoking and sighing with pleasure
it had only been hours ago
maybe the clock had stopped
baby had slipped off her pants
she was just laying there
do whatever you like ...someone said
...but be careful... whispered a tremulous voice at my ear
a bright light was shining in my eye
any reaction said cop # 1
this ones dead said cop#2
i wanted to scream out i couldnt move
a crowd of people gathered round
cmon folks, move along said a voice
it was mr weirds soft chuckle as he said it
i felt hands on me
baby was sitting on my knee kissing him
oh boy i said and they all had a good laugh
you dont look so good said one of babys friends
i was perspiring and feverish
i was moving against baby persistently
lets have a look at you said mr weird
i was on the passengers side
baby was in the back lying on her stomach again
the radio emitted a newsflash
a floodwarning
the rain at that very moment fell
nobodys driving whispered that same voice at my ear
cop#1 was digging a grave
cop#2 was smoking a rum-dipped cigar when the rain began
hey gimme a fucking hand here says #1
they lower mr weird down
down down down
it was a long way down
in total blackness he was sleeping
down by the river in a little grove of trees
no baby baby said
you were having a bad dream
shes straddling my chest and looking down
i'm trying to climb out of the earth
you was wrong about that one says cop#1
baby wake up says baby
i feel her hands miles away pulling me out
dont pull me out baby not yet says that whispery voice
mr weird takes out a five gram bag of white powder
put this on him he says to someone off camera
cop #2 tastes the powder
well whaddya know he says
baby cuts out a line on a mirror
she rolls up a note
i lay down my hand
the cop wipes the dirt of his spades
the diamonds work inside me
rubbing together incessantly
mr weird tours the clubs
and theres baby with my broken hearts
baby wriggling on her stomach like a little white serpent
baby my lovely constrictor
baby who can swallow you down
whats he got? someone asks
king high nothing....someone suggests
are you bluffing ?says baby over her shoulder
he aint bluffing....are you says mr weird-o
his breath is like vanilla cookies
his eyes never focus on anything
he talks at me not to me
if you gonna do it just do it baby said
yeah do it! said some bored voice
let me adjust these lights said cop #1
we want people to know whos behind all this
i stand in a line-up
which of these men is responsible for this ?says cop#2
baby walks up n down the line
she kisses all the guys in the line up in front of me
then when she gets in front of me she says
thats him!
the cops chuckle
i knew it! says #2
mr weird throws in his hand
beats me he says
you mean i'm free to go... ? i ask
no one answers
the phone rings
its babys voice
just go... it says
over and over
mr w sits in the back room
you play poker he asks
he grabs your lips and squeezes them together
he brushes your arm with his bad hand
opens a coke
in the silent room you can hear it fizzing
baby sits by his side
i'd hate to ever hurt you she said
a cat screams outside in an alley
cars pull up n drive off
cockroaches sprint from one greasy corner to the next
rats sleep in the walls
the first card falls
the queen of hearts
that must be baby
sweet baby face
little babycino
your brain scrambles madly
queen of hearts
the red cells
the blue cells
the tireless aorta ever beating
monarch of blood engorged dirty drum
squeezing that bloody ichor round your body
queen of heart-ache
baby smiles distantly
the second card falls
jack of diamonds
is that me
diamonds are forever baby said
baby gave me 2 white diamond shaped pills
diamonds are a girls best friend she said
i had swallowed them doubtfully
they stuck in my chest and their bitter taste scorched my throat
the jack of all trades...wasnt that just like me
a real jack ass someone else said behind a desk
the third card fell
of course
the fucking joker!
it was mr w's card
everyone there laughed
i relax my grip on my chair
my armpits are gushing ice cold sweat
my stomach feels empty and sick
my feet are frozen
my teeth chatter faintly
keep still ! hisses a cruel voice
maybe we should take a ride baby said
she had been lying on her stomach
looking back at me and all her past
the motel had a little balcony
someone had filmed us as she stood at the edge
i was kneeling down behind
baby was smoking and sighing with pleasure
it had only been hours ago
maybe the clock had stopped
baby had slipped off her pants
she was just laying there
do whatever you like ...someone said
...but be careful... whispered a tremulous voice at my ear
a bright light was shining in my eye
any reaction said cop # 1
this ones dead said cop#2
i wanted to scream out i couldnt move
a crowd of people gathered round
cmon folks, move along said a voice
it was mr weirds soft chuckle as he said it
i felt hands on me
baby was sitting on my knee kissing him
oh boy i said and they all had a good laugh
you dont look so good said one of babys friends
i was perspiring and feverish
i was moving against baby persistently
lets have a look at you said mr weird
i was on the passengers side
baby was in the back lying on her stomach again
the radio emitted a newsflash
a floodwarning
the rain at that very moment fell
nobodys driving whispered that same voice at my ear
cop#1 was digging a grave
cop#2 was smoking a rum-dipped cigar when the rain began
hey gimme a fucking hand here says #1
they lower mr weird down
down down down
it was a long way down
in total blackness he was sleeping
down by the river in a little grove of trees
no baby baby said
you were having a bad dream
shes straddling my chest and looking down
i'm trying to climb out of the earth
you was wrong about that one says cop#1
baby wake up says baby
i feel her hands miles away pulling me out
dont pull me out baby not yet says that whispery voice
mr weird takes out a five gram bag of white powder
put this on him he says to someone off camera
cop #2 tastes the powder
well whaddya know he says
baby cuts out a line on a mirror
she rolls up a note
i lay down my hand
the cop wipes the dirt of his spades
the diamonds work inside me
rubbing together incessantly
mr weird tours the clubs
and theres baby with my broken hearts
baby wriggling on her stomach like a little white serpent
baby my lovely constrictor
baby who can swallow you down
whats he got? someone asks
king high nothing....someone suggests
are you bluffing ?says baby over her shoulder
he aint bluffing....are you says mr weird-o
his breath is like vanilla cookies
his eyes never focus on anything
he talks at me not to me
if you gonna do it just do it baby said
yeah do it! said some bored voice
let me adjust these lights said cop #1
we want people to know whos behind all this
i stand in a line-up
which of these men is responsible for this ?says cop#2
baby walks up n down the line
she kisses all the guys in the line up in front of me
then when she gets in front of me she says
thats him!
the cops chuckle
i knew it! says #2
mr weird throws in his hand
beats me he says
you mean i'm free to go... ? i ask
no one answers
the phone rings
its babys voice
just go... it says
over and over
Sunday, October 12, 2008
mr weird
pre-crash
grey hours
cant come
struggle
thrash
baby says
oh baby .....
thunder sounds somewhere
the palms moving
the strangers cars
i touch her dress
please be easy with me she said
i whispered sure
sure sure sure
but that feeling was building up
the pressure
the motivator
the prime mover
obsession whips you on
the warm sultry night made for...this
i cant decide in my heart what to do
i gently lay my fingers on her bruised neck
breathe in that smell
warm smell of life
warm safe feeling
the lights change
i decide to accelerate before i realise
my feet push down
my hands grope the wheel in the darkness
i feel her hands go down down
touching me
touching me like i was some kind of monster
with some kinda naive horror of men
the window is veiled in a haze
i cant really see where i'm going
where shall i drop you ?someone laughs back there
i touch a button
and deep in the engine
a sensor convulses and responds
the liquid gushes up in jets
the wipers go into action
i see where we are now she says
as i slide along in the slipstream of speeding van
all the little processes
that keep us where we are...where we going
the fluids circulate
the diaphragms contract and expand
the momentum is beginning
we roll along furiously
explosions but controlled
the complexity of all the systems
guided by satellite
guided by the stars
guided by instinct and intuition
baby changes up automatically
my new baby
my old baby
my noisy baby
crying all night long
as we rush past the used car joints
and the green lights of the flesh districts
i slow down a little
she rolls down the window
see anything you like...?
the radio comes on
some bullshit jungle thing
i slide down into her seats
i touch the chestnut dash
i glance down at the console
where various dials calculate latitude and altitude
i push in my disc
the radio cuts off
a metallic insistent tick tick tick starts up
i am i am i am
yeah its me aint it baby
i never heard of you before tonight
says my little liar
and you know
she gets me so angry
and so worked up
dont be angry daddy
pleads that silly sooky girl
but shes being so cynical and hard bitten
shes not afraid of me
shes goading me
shes using me
shes riding me into the dust
then she'll just walk away
while i'm crashed and moaning in some motel room 205
when i cant find my keys or my money
i hear the shower going
i burst into the bathroom
and theres baby all clean and pink and white
oh maybe i can forgive her her trespasses
maybe goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life
maybe its ok to do this kind of thing sometimes
maybe god will look the other way
oh honey you seem like a stranger
i watch baby child in the mirror
with one eye on the power
one eye on the light
she pushes herself into my hands
take this and this and this
sometimes the only way to negate this man beast
is to drown in woman
woman woman woman
i am a man destined to love woman
come with me out of our bodies she says
oh daddy wont you come
dont call me daddy you little fool...!
she slaps my fucking face
you little....
yeah fuck you daddy she says
the moon roof opens sucking in night air
oh i know where we going now little daddy
we glide in unison down neptune parade
we swoop across the sleeping city
sweeping up the ghostly spirits
phantom armies marching in the dawn
children taken from their homes
the old drunks lying in glamourous gutters
me n baby dont see or hear
time for your next installment
the phone rings and dies away
baby answers
its her boyfriend mr weird
dont tell him bout me i'm signalling
yeah you know steven shes saying to him
i groan and we swerve suddenly into the wrong exit
that was bloody stupid i screaming at her
yeah
shes so defiant
standing there in the shower
talking to some idiot in her head
wash my back n make yourself useful she says
and her back is broad strong and white
her wet blonde hair falls on her shoulders
dont kiss me wash me she says
as i kangaroo away past the speeed camera
please reduce speed says the sign
but my foot is heavy on the (w)horsepower
you may be filmed using this machine
laughs mr weirds stranger baby
dont put me on the net i growl
oh no i wouldnt do that laughs someone in the room
i wake up and my clothes are all gone
dressed in a towel full of biting tarantulas
people lying around
smoking and murmuring pleasantly
fuck this ! i shout at them
and i find my trousers parked next to my car
jump in baby says my driver
she hits the radio
listen its our song
she says
what about mr weird i ask
oh who...oh ha ha ha
i hadnt thought about him for seconds
look i dont want it all over again...ok?
what baby what?
dont call me baby
and dont call me daddy
ok baby daddy she sneers
you got a nerve being smart to me i say
especially when i'm driving
no daddy i'm driving she says
triumphantly holding up my keys and my wheel
mr weird leans forward from the back seat
yeah uh huh he laughs
i been here all along
grey hours
cant come
struggle
thrash
baby says
oh baby .....
thunder sounds somewhere
the palms moving
the strangers cars
i touch her dress
please be easy with me she said
i whispered sure
sure sure sure
but that feeling was building up
the pressure
the motivator
the prime mover
obsession whips you on
the warm sultry night made for...this
i cant decide in my heart what to do
i gently lay my fingers on her bruised neck
breathe in that smell
warm smell of life
warm safe feeling
the lights change
i decide to accelerate before i realise
my feet push down
my hands grope the wheel in the darkness
i feel her hands go down down
touching me
touching me like i was some kind of monster
with some kinda naive horror of men
the window is veiled in a haze
i cant really see where i'm going
where shall i drop you ?someone laughs back there
i touch a button
and deep in the engine
a sensor convulses and responds
the liquid gushes up in jets
the wipers go into action
i see where we are now she says
as i slide along in the slipstream of speeding van
all the little processes
that keep us where we are...where we going
the fluids circulate
the diaphragms contract and expand
the momentum is beginning
we roll along furiously
explosions but controlled
the complexity of all the systems
guided by satellite
guided by the stars
guided by instinct and intuition
baby changes up automatically
my new baby
my old baby
my noisy baby
crying all night long
as we rush past the used car joints
and the green lights of the flesh districts
i slow down a little
she rolls down the window
see anything you like...?
the radio comes on
some bullshit jungle thing
i slide down into her seats
i touch the chestnut dash
i glance down at the console
where various dials calculate latitude and altitude
i push in my disc
the radio cuts off
a metallic insistent tick tick tick starts up
i am i am i am
yeah its me aint it baby
i never heard of you before tonight
says my little liar
and you know
she gets me so angry
and so worked up
dont be angry daddy
pleads that silly sooky girl
but shes being so cynical and hard bitten
shes not afraid of me
shes goading me
shes using me
shes riding me into the dust
then she'll just walk away
while i'm crashed and moaning in some motel room 205
when i cant find my keys or my money
i hear the shower going
i burst into the bathroom
and theres baby all clean and pink and white
oh maybe i can forgive her her trespasses
maybe goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life
maybe its ok to do this kind of thing sometimes
maybe god will look the other way
oh honey you seem like a stranger
i watch baby child in the mirror
with one eye on the power
one eye on the light
she pushes herself into my hands
take this and this and this
sometimes the only way to negate this man beast
is to drown in woman
woman woman woman
i am a man destined to love woman
come with me out of our bodies she says
oh daddy wont you come
dont call me daddy you little fool...!
she slaps my fucking face
you little....
yeah fuck you daddy she says
the moon roof opens sucking in night air
oh i know where we going now little daddy
we glide in unison down neptune parade
we swoop across the sleeping city
sweeping up the ghostly spirits
phantom armies marching in the dawn
children taken from their homes
the old drunks lying in glamourous gutters
me n baby dont see or hear
time for your next installment
the phone rings and dies away
baby answers
its her boyfriend mr weird
dont tell him bout me i'm signalling
yeah you know steven shes saying to him
i groan and we swerve suddenly into the wrong exit
that was bloody stupid i screaming at her
yeah
shes so defiant
standing there in the shower
talking to some idiot in her head
wash my back n make yourself useful she says
and her back is broad strong and white
her wet blonde hair falls on her shoulders
dont kiss me wash me she says
as i kangaroo away past the speeed camera
please reduce speed says the sign
but my foot is heavy on the (w)horsepower
you may be filmed using this machine
laughs mr weirds stranger baby
dont put me on the net i growl
oh no i wouldnt do that laughs someone in the room
i wake up and my clothes are all gone
dressed in a towel full of biting tarantulas
people lying around
smoking and murmuring pleasantly
fuck this ! i shout at them
and i find my trousers parked next to my car
jump in baby says my driver
she hits the radio
listen its our song
she says
what about mr weird i ask
oh who...oh ha ha ha
i hadnt thought about him for seconds
look i dont want it all over again...ok?
what baby what?
dont call me baby
and dont call me daddy
ok baby daddy she sneers
you got a nerve being smart to me i say
especially when i'm driving
no daddy i'm driving she says
triumphantly holding up my keys and my wheel
mr weird leans forward from the back seat
yeah uh huh he laughs
i been here all along
Saturday, October 11, 2008
post 1111
the internet is a naked woman with a tigers head on fire
standing in a clearing in the jungle
she rubs her tummy waiting for you to arrive
amazon jungle
lemurian jungle
indian jungle
you are a vine
you are a creeper
you are a poisonous flower swallowing wasps
the parrots scream in the canopy
and wise old snake writhes in the lair
dreaming of a hundred american women
who are all saying
oh yeah baby gimme everything you got!
the internet is a random re distributor
filling your screen with @ @ @ @ @ @s
and stories in spanish about the insatiable cruelty of hombres
and some little chica all alone in the jingling desert winds
and somebody posted it already
and i gotta burn
and i gotta burn off my friend jimmy fire
and the stuff in the pipe bubbled
and marilyn inhales deep
and bobby and john have both had her
and some brutal ape is knocking at her back door
while insignificantly we smuggle albert einstein into the future
and the inevitable black cars cruise up the street
and pick us up
and fly us away to some virtual switzerland
and i wonder then
can william tell.....?
and i sit here punching away on these symbols
some how some one some where
interprets all this and its catalogued according to its nature
then i getta burn in berne
the internet soothes me
coddles me with its curdled milk
and whacks me round the headside with its slow connection
in this very room right now
everything battles it out with everything
at the very end of time
before the last second is spent and done
diamonds rub against diamonds
tungsten fingered machine gives you a good seeing to
saucy milfs predict the weather in houston
and correct your b-grade spelling
i google myself uh oh uh oh
oh that feels good
ooh fucking google me childe
see my pages flow out n out n out
everytime someone mentions me
i grow another twenty pages
i wax massive on hearsay
yeah i love all this war and mayhem on here
korea or crimea or whatever war you like
hannibal crosses the alps and blows all the etherports
i got hannibals recipe for poached pears
i got hannibal visiting o.j. in jail
i got hannibals tips for the big game saturday
i got hannibal pushing kurt under a train
i got hannibal explaining the fat bass sounds on painkiller
i got hannibal on face book talkin' bout child sacrifice
i got hannibals virtual tour of italy by elephant
i got hannibal kissing kitten nativadads sweet ass
i got hannibals blogge written in tyrus yessaday
i got hannibals souvenir bag with the neat daggers
i got hannibal and kenny rodgers trading eyelift tips
i got hannibal jamming with sonic bloom n black azalia
i got hannibal barcas latest lyrics songs ideas pictures updates fan clubs
i got hannibal barcas only interview before sardinia
i got hannibal barca merch stories tips guides specials and FAQs
i go to delphi to connect to the internet
i ask the sybil
why no gmail from my little laptop trash
why no cheque from fucking atv...?
how long they gonna gamble my dough on the short term market?
i ask her
can you book me a cab for friday night
and can you tell me how many people read my diary
and send a message to michael
a message to michael
and gabriel to my left
and uriel to my right
and i do the hokey cokey
and swing it all about
and the cops bowl up to internet cafe
and shoot protesters in cyberspace
and opus deii log on in their secretive cloisters
and donald trump checks some figures in his tower
and karen black deletes a comment from her fan book
and julie meadows invites you to cmon down
and everybody typing
everybody reading
everybody posting
everybody up n downloading
hit my payboy
hit my payboy
payboy@payboy.$
try a free sample
here it is
kilbey kilbey blah blah blah
hey i still got the cherry pop in my system
i still got all the sweet green icing flowing down
hey i still got the vodka n berry v
i still got the T2 pills and the memory of lust
i still imagine but i prefer imagine.com.aw
i bought my new teeth on the internet
i found my eyes
and remembered i'd left my id behind my ego
listen to that orchestra
i played all them instruments ...virtually
yeah i smash up trombones and thigh bones
and saxophones and iphones
and i bounce a million fiddles into one intro
and i combine no-cal drones with so-cal blippies
and i summon up the white noise of a million madza car radios
and i tune in the bitter lemons
and i tune in iron pig
and i tune in the fairyland teenyboppers
and i tune in the limit five
and i tune in carlos and the playboys
and i tune in baby grande
and theres stevie in his dog collar n singlet
all skinny and stupid thrashing away in some queanbeyan garage
and he sing
you like a stab in the dark dont stab me in the back
and he sing
i call you zephyr cos you blow
and he sing
howcome you never do the jetfin rock
and he sing
hey synthetic equivalent
and he sing
the world below him trembled and cried out in its awe
the rivers turned to silver the silver turned to war
and he sing
some inchanted evening
you will strange a meter
and bring on the dancing internets
and internet fields forever
and
sergeant peppers internet club band
and withinyouwithoutyou.com
and the internet is a naked woman
with a tigers head on fire
but scarlet says
its a white kitty kat
standing in a clearing in the jungle
she rubs her tummy waiting for you to arrive
amazon jungle
lemurian jungle
indian jungle
you are a vine
you are a creeper
you are a poisonous flower swallowing wasps
the parrots scream in the canopy
and wise old snake writhes in the lair
dreaming of a hundred american women
who are all saying
oh yeah baby gimme everything you got!
the internet is a random re distributor
filling your screen with @ @ @ @ @ @s
and stories in spanish about the insatiable cruelty of hombres
and some little chica all alone in the jingling desert winds
and somebody posted it already
and i gotta burn
and i gotta burn off my friend jimmy fire
and the stuff in the pipe bubbled
and marilyn inhales deep
and bobby and john have both had her
and some brutal ape is knocking at her back door
while insignificantly we smuggle albert einstein into the future
and the inevitable black cars cruise up the street
and pick us up
and fly us away to some virtual switzerland
and i wonder then
can william tell.....?
and i sit here punching away on these symbols
some how some one some where
interprets all this and its catalogued according to its nature
then i getta burn in berne
the internet soothes me
coddles me with its curdled milk
and whacks me round the headside with its slow connection
in this very room right now
everything battles it out with everything
at the very end of time
before the last second is spent and done
diamonds rub against diamonds
tungsten fingered machine gives you a good seeing to
saucy milfs predict the weather in houston
and correct your b-grade spelling
i google myself uh oh uh oh
oh that feels good
ooh fucking google me childe
see my pages flow out n out n out
everytime someone mentions me
i grow another twenty pages
i wax massive on hearsay
yeah i love all this war and mayhem on here
korea or crimea or whatever war you like
hannibal crosses the alps and blows all the etherports
i got hannibals recipe for poached pears
i got hannibal visiting o.j. in jail
i got hannibals tips for the big game saturday
i got hannibal pushing kurt under a train
i got hannibal explaining the fat bass sounds on painkiller
i got hannibal on face book talkin' bout child sacrifice
i got hannibals virtual tour of italy by elephant
i got hannibal kissing kitten nativadads sweet ass
i got hannibals blogge written in tyrus yessaday
i got hannibals souvenir bag with the neat daggers
i got hannibal and kenny rodgers trading eyelift tips
i got hannibal jamming with sonic bloom n black azalia
i got hannibal barcas latest lyrics songs ideas pictures updates fan clubs
i got hannibal barcas only interview before sardinia
i got hannibal barca merch stories tips guides specials and FAQs
i go to delphi to connect to the internet
i ask the sybil
why no gmail from my little laptop trash
why no cheque from fucking atv...?
how long they gonna gamble my dough on the short term market?
i ask her
can you book me a cab for friday night
and can you tell me how many people read my diary
and send a message to michael
a message to michael
and gabriel to my left
and uriel to my right
and i do the hokey cokey
and swing it all about
and the cops bowl up to internet cafe
and shoot protesters in cyberspace
and opus deii log on in their secretive cloisters
and donald trump checks some figures in his tower
and karen black deletes a comment from her fan book
and julie meadows invites you to cmon down
and everybody typing
everybody reading
everybody posting
everybody up n downloading
hit my payboy
hit my payboy
payboy@payboy.$
try a free sample
here it is
kilbey kilbey blah blah blah
hey i still got the cherry pop in my system
i still got all the sweet green icing flowing down
hey i still got the vodka n berry v
i still got the T2 pills and the memory of lust
i still imagine but i prefer imagine.com.aw
i bought my new teeth on the internet
i found my eyes
and remembered i'd left my id behind my ego
listen to that orchestra
i played all them instruments ...virtually
yeah i smash up trombones and thigh bones
and saxophones and iphones
and i bounce a million fiddles into one intro
and i combine no-cal drones with so-cal blippies
and i summon up the white noise of a million madza car radios
and i tune in the bitter lemons
and i tune in iron pig
and i tune in the fairyland teenyboppers
and i tune in the limit five
and i tune in carlos and the playboys
and i tune in baby grande
and theres stevie in his dog collar n singlet
all skinny and stupid thrashing away in some queanbeyan garage
and he sing
you like a stab in the dark dont stab me in the back
and he sing
i call you zephyr cos you blow
and he sing
howcome you never do the jetfin rock
and he sing
hey synthetic equivalent
and he sing
the world below him trembled and cried out in its awe
the rivers turned to silver the silver turned to war
and he sing
some inchanted evening
you will strange a meter
and bring on the dancing internets
and internet fields forever
and
sergeant peppers internet club band
and withinyouwithoutyou.com
and the internet is a naked woman
with a tigers head on fire
but scarlet says
its a white kitty kat
Friday, October 10, 2008
hankering
isnt it nice to meet me?
here i am every day
oh you can be sure
on duty
being a renaissance man for ya
cos there is hardly any others
funded by my own dear readers contributions
and fueled by a wild combination
of legal and illegal subs
as well as yoga in my toga
chi chi gong
and schwimming
well
here i am
with spades on n in bells
independent
i write without fear or favour
i'm a bit of everything
but not too much nothing
ive got an iq like your phone number
and ive dabbled in simply everything
i'm good friends with prince philip who loves a smoke
bobo phewson n michael stripe often come body surfing with me
and our nicole usually meets me tuesdays in newtown
where we trawl through that huge second hand book shop
looking for old magicians grimoires
or dirty postcards from the twenties
nics favourite is that one with the newly weds n the elephant..
oh ha ha
ive played rugby for australia and england
and im the currant middle wait title holder for boxing day
i am a sports fisherman too
having landed the midgard sea serpent once with wrecks unt
ive got several auto biographies out
and gotta black belt in ju-chimnee
i speak all 19 major dialects of new south welsh
and i can communicate with yobs brats grommets derros n widgies
i am fully equipped to perform the marriage malarkey
or i can sign your cee dee
i studied drama at the school of hardt knox
and i majored in some important things
all my records go platinum usually i guess someone hoped
and my songs have been sung
in black silent forests
and at the bottom of turbulent seas
my words can be found in a dictionary
and my music never involves anything sadistic
some people think i'm really cruel
but i had them severely beaten
i am often to be found on telly
usually outside a blue ribbon red carpet gala(h) event
where i critique bimbos stupid clothes in a poufy voice
oh my my i'm quite a
(makes a motion like a cat scratching)
and i cant abide some anorexic little tart in last years tat
at the moment i'm just loving those little faux maternity dresses
that make everyone in them look like a complete imbecile
especially combined with really high heels
that make you walk like a baby giraffe with a knee injury
and beaucoups de makeup n botox for the" frightening" look
for men
i recommend paisley shirts
very very tight black jeans
cuban heeled black swayed beetle boots
and a mulletty do with big fringe and earrings
this looks especially great on a 45 year old geezer
who likes his beer n steaky, thinning on top and never exercises
and should be worn at all times
especially scorching hot days in queensland or arizona
and to job interviews and when you go over
to weed your wifes mothers garden on a sunday morning
lots of kohl round those rheumy eyes now
and say things like
"wheres the glamour?" to passing strangers
for the older gent
feeling too restricted in this mode
please try
shorts and a tradesmens shirt with iron on patches
for example ive got one that says
mephistopheles as my name tag
and stuff like that
you wont score high in the fashion steaks
but you'll be surprised how often you get asked to have a look
at someones guttering
i also recommend cravats with footy jerseys
gaiters and sporins with speedos
and guys
try to look smart please
ladies love a man in a law suit or warders uniform
artists....wash all the puce dollops off yer smock
and footy players no green stains round the knees please
butchers...that blood under yer fingynails is a bit of a turnoff
and yes
dont we all love the smell of "olde money "
now available in avarice lime
ow i just banged my bloody bad knee and it hurt!
i have no credit card or mobile phone
because im telepathic anyway
and my readers swamp me in money
because they know a good thing
and they aint seen it here...oh ha hardy ha ha
no seriously folks
it has been proven in univensity testings
that the greater level of luxury sustained by a time being
the better and more nutritious the blog
try it yourself and see
donate today and watch tomorrows blog soar into the stratocastersphere
for each hundred bucks i'll match yer with a really good word
words like
filament
and more
so cherish me
nurture me
water me with your kind donations
like a fiendish hydroponic monstrosity
getting squirted with gro-fast
like a kraken awakin' and eating up yer virgins
or a galactus sucking up planets
your humble brilliant genius needs to feed and feed and feed
my brood of monsters devours music and poetry and art
i stumble to the sea in shabby swimmers and seagulls snigger
cmon
i dont think gene simmons is writing this calibre blog
i dont think fred dursts blog is quite so familiar with the woofle
i dont think bobo or the hedge are really very funny guys
i dont think robbie williams can spell anathema
and i dont think mal turnbull will admit it
when he's trying to give up smokin' dope
lets face facts
youre addicted to ttb
its a sweet fix my cats
but it dont come fer nothin' anymore
ignore this if you already fucking subbed up
or you like me are feeling the pinchers
cough up you silent rich euro swine
or you yankees who wisely switched yer dollars for rupees
pay up you chinese nouveau rich
i'll accept yens kopecs sesterci, clams, roubles,lire,
or any coin with king dick the lionheart on it
pay me via payboy
or send me a hunk o fucking gold
anyway
yeah
uh huh
aw.......
here i am every day
oh you can be sure
on duty
being a renaissance man for ya
cos there is hardly any others
funded by my own dear readers contributions
and fueled by a wild combination
of legal and illegal subs
as well as yoga in my toga
chi chi gong
and schwimming
well
here i am
with spades on n in bells
independent
i write without fear or favour
i'm a bit of everything
but not too much nothing
ive got an iq like your phone number
and ive dabbled in simply everything
i'm good friends with prince philip who loves a smoke
bobo phewson n michael stripe often come body surfing with me
and our nicole usually meets me tuesdays in newtown
where we trawl through that huge second hand book shop
looking for old magicians grimoires
or dirty postcards from the twenties
nics favourite is that one with the newly weds n the elephant..
oh ha ha
ive played rugby for australia and england
and im the currant middle wait title holder for boxing day
i am a sports fisherman too
having landed the midgard sea serpent once with wrecks unt
ive got several auto biographies out
and gotta black belt in ju-chimnee
i speak all 19 major dialects of new south welsh
and i can communicate with yobs brats grommets derros n widgies
i am fully equipped to perform the marriage malarkey
or i can sign your cee dee
i studied drama at the school of hardt knox
and i majored in some important things
all my records go platinum usually i guess someone hoped
and my songs have been sung
in black silent forests
and at the bottom of turbulent seas
my words can be found in a dictionary
and my music never involves anything sadistic
some people think i'm really cruel
but i had them severely beaten
i am often to be found on telly
usually outside a blue ribbon red carpet gala(h) event
where i critique bimbos stupid clothes in a poufy voice
oh my my i'm quite a
(makes a motion like a cat scratching)
and i cant abide some anorexic little tart in last years tat
at the moment i'm just loving those little faux maternity dresses
that make everyone in them look like a complete imbecile
especially combined with really high heels
that make you walk like a baby giraffe with a knee injury
and beaucoups de makeup n botox for the" frightening" look
for men
i recommend paisley shirts
very very tight black jeans
cuban heeled black swayed beetle boots
and a mulletty do with big fringe and earrings
this looks especially great on a 45 year old geezer
who likes his beer n steaky, thinning on top and never exercises
and should be worn at all times
especially scorching hot days in queensland or arizona
and to job interviews and when you go over
to weed your wifes mothers garden on a sunday morning
lots of kohl round those rheumy eyes now
and say things like
"wheres the glamour?" to passing strangers
for the older gent
feeling too restricted in this mode
please try
shorts and a tradesmens shirt with iron on patches
for example ive got one that says
mephistopheles as my name tag
and stuff like that
you wont score high in the fashion steaks
but you'll be surprised how often you get asked to have a look
at someones guttering
i also recommend cravats with footy jerseys
gaiters and sporins with speedos
and guys
try to look smart please
ladies love a man in a law suit or warders uniform
artists....wash all the puce dollops off yer smock
and footy players no green stains round the knees please
butchers...that blood under yer fingynails is a bit of a turnoff
and yes
dont we all love the smell of "olde money "
now available in avarice lime
ow i just banged my bloody bad knee and it hurt!
i have no credit card or mobile phone
because im telepathic anyway
and my readers swamp me in money
because they know a good thing
and they aint seen it here...oh ha hardy ha ha
no seriously folks
it has been proven in univensity testings
that the greater level of luxury sustained by a time being
the better and more nutritious the blog
try it yourself and see
donate today and watch tomorrows blog soar into the stratocastersphere
for each hundred bucks i'll match yer with a really good word
words like
filament
and more
so cherish me
nurture me
water me with your kind donations
like a fiendish hydroponic monstrosity
getting squirted with gro-fast
like a kraken awakin' and eating up yer virgins
or a galactus sucking up planets
your humble brilliant genius needs to feed and feed and feed
my brood of monsters devours music and poetry and art
i stumble to the sea in shabby swimmers and seagulls snigger
cmon
i dont think gene simmons is writing this calibre blog
i dont think fred dursts blog is quite so familiar with the woofle
i dont think bobo or the hedge are really very funny guys
i dont think robbie williams can spell anathema
and i dont think mal turnbull will admit it
when he's trying to give up smokin' dope
lets face facts
youre addicted to ttb
its a sweet fix my cats
but it dont come fer nothin' anymore
ignore this if you already fucking subbed up
or you like me are feeling the pinchers
cough up you silent rich euro swine
or you yankees who wisely switched yer dollars for rupees
pay up you chinese nouveau rich
i'll accept yens kopecs sesterci, clams, roubles,lire,
or any coin with king dick the lionheart on it
pay me via payboy
or send me a hunk o fucking gold
anyway
yeah
uh huh
aw.......
Thursday, October 09, 2008
flying ointment
at night i use flying ointment
and leave my tree
thousands of us take to the air
flying over ghent or barcelona
soaring like a weightless thing
coming down in the parks and gardens of the imperators
skimming over the fountains damp aura
and rushing through the flowerheads
easing the dull ache of longing
the friction of the stems
feeding on strawberries and juicy little grapes
drifting through windows in palaces
drinking the leftover wine
tumbling through wee small hours
wrapped up in midnight blue
losing myself in books
or swept up in the music of memory
flung high by some symphony of yesteryear
high in the empty splendid rooms
candlelit and shadows run here and there
i thirst for delicious love
oh love love love
where can love be hiding tonight
when suddenly a hundred mirrors revolve
and dark love is revealed
love gone bad
spoilt love
too much love
love that hurts and hurts
no love
no love at all
no love at all that love
wicked love and stupid love
and brutal love with who doesnt know when to stop
and wayward love with the preening fawn
and sorry love with the excuses
and busy love with absolutely no time for you
and dead love already going off
and the love that shall have no name
and the love that takes every name in vain
and the love that makes you forget
and the love that makes you wish you never remembered
big love
hard on love
stiff love
cheap n nasty love that makes you sick
forbidden love with the veils
bought love that says anything you like
carnal love with the fishnets and hooks
temporary love with a silly smile
funny love but no ones laughing
unloved love that no one wants
love all used up and squeezed out
but where
but when
but who is ..
no sweet love
no lovely love
no ameliorating love
no love to mitigate my crimes of passion
no love to guide me through this tonight
no love to speak of...
bah!
i leave the banquet hall of great souls then
my wings beat faster than anger
my eyes see swifter than sky
my hands hold harder than a river
my heart beats stronger than gold
my spells summon the midges of summer
or keep out the winter sprites
i see myself in the dust that sparkles once
and doors that open inwards
and fat rumours spread like butter on tomorrow
whirl around the old masters house
upstairs downstairs
all along the rails
call me uncertain
call me even when you have no voice
when youre lost in the living room with dead love
when something horrible reaches up n squeezes the breath out of you
when you discover the great loneliness at the heart of society
when the best wine makes you puke
when you listen to cocaine
or sniff music
when you fall asleep still aroused
and touch yourself all night
your hands moving like bizzy little snakes
when you lie on your stomach
grunting and groaning
as some mad storm straddles your back
and pounds down along your spine
and flames lick around your harbours
and your little boat catches fire...aw, what a shame...
and waves rear up in your bed
and you sink sink sink
there is no rest
in this life
in a next life
in all other lives
ones you may not even lead
as if you lead a life like you lead a dog
as if trouble dogs you
and follows you to school
where the children laugh and play
to see a beast break that gilt-edged rule
call me if you need me
when your falling through another empty evening
wingless like a crab
or your feline senses desert you
and the birds twitter on the line
and you cant even count to zero
and you cant even be odd
then
look in the drapes in the folds of the earth
in the sunset modulation of light
in the red and pinks and oranges of dusk
in orchards on the skins of soft peaches
and diving down fleshpots rude jetty
and the catalyst for chemical exchanges
and the formulation of diverse plans
and more white lies about your black deeds
and appearing in court naked as a jailbird
when you think about the jungle that swallows cities
and you think how nature will always prevail
and you think about the lilac clouds from the 14th of february
and you think youve exhausted the mine
but youve only just hit the seam
and you arrive home unexpected and find nothings wrong
and the doctor says what are you doing for christmas
and its so hot as you run down the lane between the houses
and you got a gift that goes on living
and the quick brown docs jump over the lazy fog
think of me when you expire on times avenue
think of me as you broadcast your last good night
think of me in 1973 at my girlfriends listening to raphael
think of me in some cottage in brittany eating my words
think of me on tour with my fender guitar
think of me being executed and grin n say "thats life"
think of world war one and all those great fashions
think of manfred von richtofen and his blue max
think of edward the 5th and a half
who gave it all up in mrs simpson
think of titian aboard the titanic
arriving safely in toronto
after sailing in the himalayan lagoons
think of a white elephant or a jumble sale
think of little steven in the monaro mall
his daddy gave him 5.95 to buy abraxas
think of all that school girl flesh now old like me
think of the kids already gone to the great lyneham high in the sky
think of how the christmas holidays went on n on
identical days of heat and boredom
so you crucified bugs and fired your arrows at birds
think of adolescences big waiting room
where boys jerk off to bitches
and girls jerk off to stallions
where you trade childhoods dreams
for a slap round the head
and a prick in yer hand
and like grey hounds and whippets they set you free
and you come out of the box baying for some bunnies blood
and you chase and you surround
and you tear and tear and tear
and think of the smell of model glue and humbrol paint
made in hull england
and you locate and cement
and you apply the decals
and you choose your options
and you say fuck all this
bring on the dope
bring on the paint strippers
bring on the 22nd century
bring on the pots of unbound pigment
bring on the snow white finns
and the jet black ethiopians
bring on the intellectual ratbags
and the cretinous media
bring on the slobbering execs and vacuous wranglers
bring on the gay dads and the kids with 3 mothers
bring on the scorching mornings of white hot summer
bring on the dead air conditioners and empty ice trays
give me my life back
make me rich
make me a star
make me a break
bake me a cake
take away this ache
get me a halo
shoot me a message
gimme a fix
gimme a panacea
wheres my soy nepenthe
wheres my gram from mickey finns private stash
wheres my morphine cocktail with dylan thomas
wheres my dilaudid n martini with dino martino
wheres my cognac with frank n sammy
wheres my harpoon n my stingray
wheres my baby grande and my precious little
wheres my little wag with his tiny joke
wheres my pests and plagues and famines and wars
wheres my sequence with scott n ricki n polinski
wheres my hollow cast
wheres my mutineers
wheres my ears n eyes
nowhere
thats where
i fold out my invisible pinions
i take more of the ointment
and you wont see my ass for dust
and leave my tree
thousands of us take to the air
flying over ghent or barcelona
soaring like a weightless thing
coming down in the parks and gardens of the imperators
skimming over the fountains damp aura
and rushing through the flowerheads
easing the dull ache of longing
the friction of the stems
feeding on strawberries and juicy little grapes
drifting through windows in palaces
drinking the leftover wine
tumbling through wee small hours
wrapped up in midnight blue
losing myself in books
or swept up in the music of memory
flung high by some symphony of yesteryear
high in the empty splendid rooms
candlelit and shadows run here and there
i thirst for delicious love
oh love love love
where can love be hiding tonight
when suddenly a hundred mirrors revolve
and dark love is revealed
love gone bad
spoilt love
too much love
love that hurts and hurts
no love
no love at all
no love at all that love
wicked love and stupid love
and brutal love with who doesnt know when to stop
and wayward love with the preening fawn
and sorry love with the excuses
and busy love with absolutely no time for you
and dead love already going off
and the love that shall have no name
and the love that takes every name in vain
and the love that makes you forget
and the love that makes you wish you never remembered
big love
hard on love
stiff love
cheap n nasty love that makes you sick
forbidden love with the veils
bought love that says anything you like
carnal love with the fishnets and hooks
temporary love with a silly smile
funny love but no ones laughing
unloved love that no one wants
love all used up and squeezed out
but where
but when
but who is ..
no sweet love
no lovely love
no ameliorating love
no love to mitigate my crimes of passion
no love to guide me through this tonight
no love to speak of...
bah!
i leave the banquet hall of great souls then
my wings beat faster than anger
my eyes see swifter than sky
my hands hold harder than a river
my heart beats stronger than gold
my spells summon the midges of summer
or keep out the winter sprites
i see myself in the dust that sparkles once
and doors that open inwards
and fat rumours spread like butter on tomorrow
whirl around the old masters house
upstairs downstairs
all along the rails
call me uncertain
call me even when you have no voice
when youre lost in the living room with dead love
when something horrible reaches up n squeezes the breath out of you
when you discover the great loneliness at the heart of society
when the best wine makes you puke
when you listen to cocaine
or sniff music
when you fall asleep still aroused
and touch yourself all night
your hands moving like bizzy little snakes
when you lie on your stomach
grunting and groaning
as some mad storm straddles your back
and pounds down along your spine
and flames lick around your harbours
and your little boat catches fire...aw, what a shame...
and waves rear up in your bed
and you sink sink sink
there is no rest
in this life
in a next life
in all other lives
ones you may not even lead
as if you lead a life like you lead a dog
as if trouble dogs you
and follows you to school
where the children laugh and play
to see a beast break that gilt-edged rule
call me if you need me
when your falling through another empty evening
wingless like a crab
or your feline senses desert you
and the birds twitter on the line
and you cant even count to zero
and you cant even be odd
then
look in the drapes in the folds of the earth
in the sunset modulation of light
in the red and pinks and oranges of dusk
in orchards on the skins of soft peaches
and diving down fleshpots rude jetty
and the catalyst for chemical exchanges
and the formulation of diverse plans
and more white lies about your black deeds
and appearing in court naked as a jailbird
when you think about the jungle that swallows cities
and you think how nature will always prevail
and you think about the lilac clouds from the 14th of february
and you think youve exhausted the mine
but youve only just hit the seam
and you arrive home unexpected and find nothings wrong
and the doctor says what are you doing for christmas
and its so hot as you run down the lane between the houses
and you got a gift that goes on living
and the quick brown docs jump over the lazy fog
think of me when you expire on times avenue
think of me as you broadcast your last good night
think of me in 1973 at my girlfriends listening to raphael
think of me in some cottage in brittany eating my words
think of me on tour with my fender guitar
think of me being executed and grin n say "thats life"
think of world war one and all those great fashions
think of manfred von richtofen and his blue max
think of edward the 5th and a half
who gave it all up in mrs simpson
think of titian aboard the titanic
arriving safely in toronto
after sailing in the himalayan lagoons
think of a white elephant or a jumble sale
think of little steven in the monaro mall
his daddy gave him 5.95 to buy abraxas
think of all that school girl flesh now old like me
think of the kids already gone to the great lyneham high in the sky
think of how the christmas holidays went on n on
identical days of heat and boredom
so you crucified bugs and fired your arrows at birds
think of adolescences big waiting room
where boys jerk off to bitches
and girls jerk off to stallions
where you trade childhoods dreams
for a slap round the head
and a prick in yer hand
and like grey hounds and whippets they set you free
and you come out of the box baying for some bunnies blood
and you chase and you surround
and you tear and tear and tear
and think of the smell of model glue and humbrol paint
made in hull england
and you locate and cement
and you apply the decals
and you choose your options
and you say fuck all this
bring on the dope
bring on the paint strippers
bring on the 22nd century
bring on the pots of unbound pigment
bring on the snow white finns
and the jet black ethiopians
bring on the intellectual ratbags
and the cretinous media
bring on the slobbering execs and vacuous wranglers
bring on the gay dads and the kids with 3 mothers
bring on the scorching mornings of white hot summer
bring on the dead air conditioners and empty ice trays
give me my life back
make me rich
make me a star
make me a break
bake me a cake
take away this ache
get me a halo
shoot me a message
gimme a fix
gimme a panacea
wheres my soy nepenthe
wheres my gram from mickey finns private stash
wheres my morphine cocktail with dylan thomas
wheres my dilaudid n martini with dino martino
wheres my cognac with frank n sammy
wheres my harpoon n my stingray
wheres my baby grande and my precious little
wheres my little wag with his tiny joke
wheres my pests and plagues and famines and wars
wheres my sequence with scott n ricki n polinski
wheres my hollow cast
wheres my mutineers
wheres my ears n eyes
nowhere
thats where
i fold out my invisible pinions
i take more of the ointment
and you wont see my ass for dust
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