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Mark
LYRICS

Hey Mathematician (2017)

Old Glory

Well I only took this route
Cos the old man on the corner pointed
With his crooked and weakened finger
And his sad story, full of old glory.
And his simple knowledge of the good things
And his brutal depiction of the bad.

Cos there’s no advice like wisdom
No direction like the path well-trodden
There’s no speech with the weight of an elder’s
No easier decision than your fate
Cos there’s nothing so attractive as your destiny
There’s no touch like your current lover’s hand
There’s no love like the one who sees right through you,
Reaches down, picks you out of the crowd.

Well I only took this route
Cos the old man on the corner pointed.
With the sweetest of smiles to remind me
That he broke all the boundaries just like me
And my death is a chasin’ up behind me.
That’s why I only need lovers beside me
That’s why I only want lovers beside me

Elevate Me (Smoke)

Elevate me to your status quick
I don’t enjoy breathing air this heavy and thick –
Heavy with the anger of a thousand alarms

What a game it is that you spend your days on
Do you see the little tint in this flood?
Cos Every now and then I see a pool of blood

So don’t tell ’bout your great idea
This smoke, it’s crystal clear

Been thinking ’bout the places that I want to be
You been all around here lying through your teeth
Everyday the joke is getting closer to me

So I lie beneath the verdant oak tree
Bearing the fruit you consume in the morn
Babies sat in wombs too fucking scared to be born

So don’t tell ’bout your great idea
This smoke, it’s crystal clear

Billy’s Funeral

Well I had much better than a bad life,
I tell my friends and foes.
I had no pick of the women,
But I took a few of them home.
So don’t cry for me at no funeral or wake,
Chase up them dreams and the plans you make.
You have but a finite number of seconds so cry for the right ones.

And I missed the last of my children
Buck off his first enemy
And I miss the sight of my lady
Softly smiling at me.
But the riches I knew in the time that I had,
I’ll take with me in a bindle bag.
I came here alone with a clenched-up fist
And I’ll leave the same way.

But nothing burned so deep into my memory
None of the people I met
You were my only retreat
Nothing burned so deep into my memory
You, that love of my life
You, my cradle of dignity

And I should have stayed in the country,
I tried living in cityscapes.
Well I’ve gotten away with a few scams,
Had a few lucky escapes.
But it was there that I met the lady I knew,
From the first moment, she’d carry me through.
Could say I’m lucky but it’s not the right word
Cos I lived a charmed life.

And I chipped away at the rock face –
Lined pockets of bureaucrats
Suited their backs with my hardship
While keeping my pride intact.
Cos when you walk alone to the end of your street
And a brick wall’s the only companion you meet
It stares back at you like brushed plate of silver
And quotes you your weight in gold.

But nothing burned so deep into my memory
None of the people I met
You were my only retreat
Nothing burned so deep into my memory
You, that love of my life
You, my cradle of dignity

Shipwreck

It’s just a matter of opinion
If the rules tie us down or they make us stronger
I’ve seen the toughest person I ever knew
his brain in the gutter and his heart in two.
Over a choice that really should’ve made him glad
He couldn’t get together and it all went bad

You know the light inside that never goes out
I put a blanket over it to feel good in a crowd
You know the one, it never goes away
We sit in offices and we quell it every day.
It’s like I hold a pistol like a baton in my hand
I could pass it on or step out and kill a man.

My pains on repeat, it goes echo
Like the advert’s louder than the TV show
I’m not in tune with the tick of this locale
So I leave it whenever I’m allowed
The bridges fail when we go to cross the water
We’re too lonely to raise sons and daughters
Everybody’s trying to get their pace in check
The only thing they’re doing is bailing out water in this shipwreck
This shipwreck
This shipwreck
This shipwreck

Well I still go searching for beauty
For the giving eyes that I see on your face
I still got time for creations
That disturb me, take me out of this place

I ain’t got time for a preacher
a hero or a teacher
The enemy, it’s within this beast
In it’s grabbing hands, in its nature.

My pains on repeat, it goes echo
Like the advert’s louder than the TV show
I’m not in tune with the tick of this locale
So I leave it whenever I’m allowed
The bridges fail when we go to cross the water
We’re too lonely to raise sons and daughters
Everybody’s trying to get their pace in check
The only thing they’re doing is bailing out water in this shipwreck
This shipwreck
This shipwreck
This shipwreck

We are 40 Now

This is demon time, and this city crumbles, under weight of stacks of money stumbles
In the streets you hear a little less chat, cos nobody can be bothered with the grumbles anymore
We run around like pinballs, and there’s nothing found in these packed halls.
When the curfew comes the place is silent, like we just got handed threats of violence
By the boys in blue, oh I’m just like you, I just lose my voice and then I find it

And our leaflets soak with the winter leaves
So tired and limp as we lay down.
Sending dvds to refugees
The ridiculous things we try to play down

We are 40 now and we got the kids
What do we do now what a joke it is
You can hide yourself behind your money belt
Take it in the chest with the forsaken rest
Sunken London look, we are losing it
drinking way too much, thinking way too small.
And my tinder’s full of bearded lunatics,
Mincin’ round in threes in H&M kits
We are 40 now
We are 40 now
We are 40 now – elements all in place
See my sinking shoulders and my swollen face
This banana skin in the recycling bin
Is today’s righteous act of rebellion

And our leaflets soak with the winter leaves
So tired and limp as we lay down.
Sending dvds to refugees
The ridiculous things we try to play down

Water For Blood

Don’t ask that question of me
You already know my answer will be a lie.
Your blade is red when it enters me,
We both know you want a colourful life
So you’ll see when you pull it out it’ll be blue
My blood is no thicker than water, not even for you

Like a couple of ghouls with water for blood
Let’s go strolling in the desert.
Drained of life and drenched to the skin
With guilt and unforgiveable sin
And the words I sing so loud are untrue
My blood is not thicker than water, not even for you

The fangs come out and our wings get clipped
Screaming at you with a criminal’s script
Singing ‘don’t make me feel bad and pint at me like I’m funny,
I don’t break hearts for money, I just need something to do,
My blood is no thicker than water, not even for you.’

It’s an elegant dance like a fight ‘tween dogs
This is no game, but we have both lost
And I invented her and she invented me
Read into what you like, don’t believe what you see
And that’s my only unbreakable rule
My blood is no thicker than water, not even for you

The Cold of The Night

She came to me, mysterious, alone,
Ready to fight for this occupied throne
Bleaker in the mid than I’d ever seen at home,
Stronger in her heart than I’d ever felt or known.
And this kind of love is the guide I never wanted.

Always in the night, with broken shutters drawn –
Our confidences ripped and our good natures torn.
Hidden from the world in a land of scorn,
In the fires of disaster, that’s where our love was born.
And this kind of love is the guide I never wanted,
But it teaches me the lessons that I need.

And all evidence has told me I should be leaving
But the cold of the night never lets me go
And all she ever asks me is do I share this feeling
Well I’m bound to her forever but I’ll never let her know.

Always after dark, with anger in my eyes,
Sadness in my heart, resolution in my cries
I mean to steal away, into the night so black
To the car that will not take me towards a train-less track
Cos this kind of cold is the friend I never wanted

Well I know I let you down and my virtue’s weak as sin
But I am just a learner – unaccustomed diving in
This future is not good, it is black as darkest night
But as long as I’ve got you babe I know we’ll be alright
Cos this kind of cold is the friend I never wanted

And all evidence has told me I should be leaving
But the cold of the night never lets me go
And all she ever asks me is do I share this feeling
Well I’m bound to her forever but I’ll never let her know

Shackles

You wanna talk to me about shackles?
Well I found yours lying on the ground
Beside the empty bottles of gin

You’ll never say the words to release me
No, you’ll never work up the spine
That’s why my life will never begin

You talk as if I never had any dreams
Well the orchestra’s in front of me
And the sweetest music will not play

You say you wanna talk to me about choice
Well you never made one in your life
That’s why we’ve gotta live this way

Well I used to be top of your list now I’m lucky if I make it at all
We assembled a life round a kiss now and I don’t wanna hate it

Ally, acquaintance, enemy
Ally, acquaintance, enemy
Ally, acquaintance, enemy
Ally, acquaintance, enemy

Cruel Ministry

Well God knows the only potion
To make the girl I love go weak
Is my lack of devotion – my willingness to let this be.
And she laps it up like a sweet drug
And I’ve got enough to go around.

Well this girl is not a human
She is an angel with a wounded wing
Dressed in black like a mourner
Stood naked with the grace of a king
And I step myself away now,
To move toward her is desire for pain.

Oh your love, well ain’t this a cruel ministry
Love don’t think of poetry
Well ain’t this a cruel ministry
So think of last rites and set me free

Well I’d compare you to a priestess
You have inherent all the things I need
And you deign to satisfy me
No more often than your womanhood bleeds
And I need my independence,
How else would I build up the energy, for her to be attracted,
to make worthy of her cruel ministry?

Oh your love, well ain’t this a cruel ministry
Love don’t think of poetry
Well ain’t this a cruel ministry
So think of last rites and set me free

Early Woman

With brown eyes soft as can be
This girl is simply looking at me
With love like an honesty punch
I’ve nothing to give, she takes what she wants
We knock on society’s door
Say ‘Can we come in, we’re gifted and poor’
The answer is always the same:
‘you cannot win, ’til you play this game’

When black squares drift into view
I think I can last, it’s her pulls me through
When my elegance is all gone,
She cradles me, carries me along.

Woman, early woman
You care not about the customs and the rules
Woman, early woman
You take us all and turn us into fools.

This city, putrid as sin
All doors are closed, she lets me in
My beautiful queen of the south –
Distant in body, close at the mouth
Words so much clearer than air,
Breathed into me with tolerant care.
Drifting along on my own,
I feel her body cradle my bones.

With the craft of an artisan witch
Could be a siren if that was her wish
As inimitable as a rose
As powerful in and out of her clothes

Woman, early woman
You care not about the customs and the rules
Woman, early woman
You take us all and turn us into fools

The Blocks of Saint Lukes

Nothing quite as beautiful as pushing open a door
Doesn’t matter what it’s for
But it matters when they take it away

Break down all the final locks, open up for me
You took seven of my twenty three
Now you expect me to just start again

Your broken system could have beaten me
Your broken system could have beaten me

But hey maybe they let me out just in time
Cos I really think I can do it
And I’ll never see a sweeter sky
Over the blocks of St Lukes

Strolling out your prison gates I’ll take the cab fare home
From that judge upon his plastic throne
I’m sure that he can spare the change

I really hope he understands, remembers who I am
That boy made to become a man
For foolish reasons behind his prison walls.

His broken system could have beaten me
His broken system could have beaten me

But hey maybe they let me out just in time
Cos I really think I can do it
And I’ll never see a sweeter sky
Over the blocks of St Lukes

If I Die a Tory

You boys send me letters,
you send me such pretty letters
about money I owe
Which you sadly expect to receive

While You raise the wages
Of the fat cats and famous
Reap what you sow
Bury everyone else in the ground

And your farming is woeful
And your furrows will not hold us
While we sing through the walls
And dance right through your Monday night

Cos To rejoice when you tell us
And to spend when you want us
Is to shackle ourselves
To the rules of the privileged man

If I die a Tory
Then I’ll tell my story
To the 90 year old who died when his fire ran out.

If I die a Tory
Then I’ll rub the shoulders
Of the grateful slaves who put the bricks in my second house

So I’ll take my place now in the slow line to the prison
With the beggars and thieves and the recently self-employed

Cos I don’t fancy dying
In the engines of my country
While you fuck refugees
Leave our taxes in cash by the door.

If I die a Tory
Then I’ll sell my story
To the no money rag which sang, but nobody read

If I die a tory
Then I’ll suck the poison
From the wounds of my victims, bitten and better off dead
From the wounds of my victims, bitten by the Eton snakes

Mother

Mother I went away
I tried a few things
Now I wish you’d say
Time to come home

I got a job like you said
Picked one I loved
And now I can’t pay my rent
Time to come home

Cos I heard tell that you miss me like the day that I left
Well I wish you’d kiss me, tell me that I’m done and I passed this test
Somebody tells me that my bed it lies there still made
While I ant been sleeping, stuck in the middle of this love and hate, this love and hate.

Well I found a girl what you think?
Just wanted a friend
but she rearranged everything
Time to run home

She was the one in my dreams
But when I got her
She tore me apart at the seams
Time to run home

Cos I heard tell that you miss me like the day that I left
Well I wish you’d kiss me, tell me that I’m done and I passed this test
Somebody tells me that my bed it lies there still made
While I ant been sleeping, stuck in the middle of this love and hate, this love and hate

Doves May Fly

Speaking of kindness
And the way you care for me
Oh my little highness
I’m here at your tender feet
To give it all up to you
Anything you don’t want me to do
Will never happen again
For the sake of my friend
For the sake of my friend

We walk through this desert
Of insolvency and distant dreams
Thinking plans up
Making enemies and building teams
With the lovers, poets and fiends
Trying to carve out momentary scenes
Where some truth can finally be seen in all this mess

Cos the doves may fly from our carrion
If the vultures dive then the evil has won
But our meat will fry in the burning sun, as one.

We move like the ocean
Out of the depths, into the breeze
I told you I love you
I told you to leave me but darling please
Know you’re my best friend
‘Til the very bitter end
When I’m in your eyes, I’ll never pretend

Cos the doves may fly from our carrion
If the vultures dive then the evil has won
But our meat will fry in the burning sun, as one

Pittsburgh It Is

3 hours out of New York
Which way do they wanna go?
Straight on down through the mountains, in the snow
Well it seems the weather is saying no.
So which way do they wanna go?

And its pedal to the floor
Can we make it? You know I’m not sure,
And I’m not sure about you
Or the one that you’re sat next to.
So please let me sit next to the pretty girl,
She’s scared enough to be in this world.

And I never felt so cold or to feel my brain fizz
Well I know exactly just where I am but not what time it is.
And I never had no cutey to miss
Pittsburgh It is.

So we sit around like refugees on the floor
I cannot take this no more
Let’s get out and see this town
And the wind is blowing the snow down
We got stories and opinions to throw around.

And all I can feel is this cold, hard industrial frown
This is a ghost of a town
And there’s nobody around
So let’s find a bar, shut ourselves away
There ain’t no trains leaving Pittsburgh today

And I never felt so cold or to feel my brain fizz
Well I know exactly just where I am but not what time it is.
And I never had no cutey to miss
Pittsburgh It is

Harlequins (2015)

Up With The Birds

(I wrote this song about a walk I did from Lyme Regis to the top of The Golden Cap, a cliff in Dorset)

We’d been waiting for a change so long
That I had the energy of ten men.
Drilling through coins and reading books,
Trying to inject some life into these days.
Saw a message from a seaside town;
‘Come and play your music for free if you want to,
take your lady for a holiday,
don’t speak to old folks, stick to the pathways’

So I played to a crowd of conducive ears,
connecting with their feelings and speaking through their mouthpiece.
It was quiet, didn’t have no fears,
Walked around with smiles and bare yellow chipped teeth.
Next morning saw The Golden Cap;
Shining like a breast exposed on a neckline.
Never reckoned on a path to God,
Until I took the old folk’s route up the bluffline

Ain’t no use describing this golden path
Right into God’s pretty mouth
Could’ve taken steps to my own death
Off the highest point in the south

I could tell you stories in the past tense,
Fill them up with pictures and words
Never would’ve seen it if I’d stayed low
Had to get up with the birds

The first stop was the Evan’s cliff;
Protected by the plastic paper little cash threats.
I don’t listen to the rules these days so I pissed on the ground at the start of the pathway.
Past the wonders of Jurassic times
No interest or time for the dead fish
Pushing forward like a fevered troop
To reach the very top on my feet was my one wish.

Ain’t no use describing this golden path
Right into God’s pretty mouth
Could’ve taken steps to my own death
Off the highest point in the south
I could tell you stories in the past tense,
Fill them up with pictures and words
Never would’ve seen it if I’d stayed low
Had to get up with the birds

Our Queen

You swing your love round your head like a soft pillow case
Hitting everybody here
Soft, seductive, American lace, with a hint of that elusive that’s needed
You hit perfection too early in the day, now it bears down upon you like a halo of clay
Making everybody stop and notice what you do
Without a thought for the essence of you
And maybe that’s your problem, you just look too good.
Like a park bench shining, made of the finest wood.
And how can you blame us?
We will try and scale your walls

So throw us all down in your moat
You’re in our presence, you are our queen
And that is all she wrote.
Remember the words that I said
We all had a crack but my line was the best
So keep a little picture of me in your head.

There’s a dirty little aura round the outside of you
Smells of roses and of dangerous tattoos;
Bewitching every single little fool in this room,
Collecting affections like skulls in a tomb
Powerful and potent like the seeds of a tree
Designed by some god to bear fruit of mystery,
A little bit of what you need sets you free
but beholding everything you desire’s like a disease.

So maybe that’s your problem,
You just look too good
Like a park bench shining, made of the finest wood
And you give us fractions of you, I want It all

So throw us all down in your moat
You’re in our presence, you are our queen
And that is all she wrote
Remember the words that I said
We all had a crack but my line was the best
So keep a little picture of me in your head

What a Waste

If you think you’ve got answers in your pocket
You better take me out your diary
If you think that your sayings are the gospel
You better check at the friary
You drag me out holes of indecision
With the grip of a table vice
You face your emotions like a slave
I’m lucky if I get cold as ice
Oh I wear black, you can wear all the grey that you want to
Oh I turned back, you can carry out the journey if you want to.
Oh you’re my best friend
You’re my best friend
There’s so much tragedy in your haste

What a waste
You threw your love around in the wrong place
Throw it where you wanna be
Throw it where you wanna be
What a waste
Don’t ever sleaze around in the wrong place
Do it where you wanna be
Do it where you wanna be

If dry humping in cars isn’t your thing
You’re gonna have to do better
If you cannot lead her where her heart sings
You’re gonna have to forget her
If you really love me like you say so
You’ll set me running in open air
We’re all born in the flurry of a passion
So very hard to keep it there
You embody the warrior of life, girl
Only fighting for better days
I never deserved all your love, girl
But you give it me anyways
Oh I wear black, you can wear all the grey that you want to
Oh I turned back, you can carry out the journey if you want to.
Oh you’re my best friend
You’re my best friend
There’s so much tragedy in your haste

What a waste
You threw your love around in the wrong place
Throw it where you wanna be
Throw it where you wanna be
What a waste
Don’t ever sleaze around in the wrong place
Do it where you wanna be
Do it where you wanna be
What a waste
You let your anger rage in the wrong place
Talk about a tragedy
Talk about a tragedy
What a waste
Don’t ever sleaze around in the wrong place
Do it where you wanna be
Do it where you wanna be

Pittsburgh It Is

3 hours out of New York
Which way do they wanna go?
Straight on down through the mountains, in the snow
Well it seems the weather is saying no.
So which way do they wanna go?

And its pedal to the floor
Can we make it? You know I’m not sure,
And I’m not sure about you
Or the one that you’re sat next to.
So please let me sit next to the pretty girl,
She’s scared enough to be in this world.

And I never felt so cold or to feel my brain fizz
Well I know exactly just where I am but not what time it is.
And I never had no cutey to miss
Pittsburgh It is.

So we sit around like refugees on the floor
I cannot take this no more
Let’s get out and see this town
And the wind is blowing the snow down
We got stories and opinions to throw around.

And all I can feel is this cold, hard industrial frown
This is a ghost of a town
And there’s nobody around
So let’s find a bar, shut ourselves away
There ain’t no trains leaving Pittsburgh today

And I never felt so cold or to feel my brain fizz
Well I know exactly just where I am but not what time it is.
And I never had no cutey to miss
Pittsburgh It is

Doves May Fly

Speaking of kindness
And the way you care for me
Oh my little highness
I’m here at your tender feet
To give it all up to you
Anything you don’t want me to do
Will never happen again
For the sake of my friend
For the sake of my friend

We walk through this desert
Of insolvency and distant dreams
Thinking plans up
Making enemies and building teams
With the lovers, poets and fiends
Trying to carve out momentary scenes
Where some truth can finally be seen in all this mess

Cos the doves may fly from our carrion
If the vultures dive then the evil has won
But our meat will fry in the burning sun, as one.

We move like the ocean
Out of the depths, into the breeze
I told you I love you
I told you to leave me but darling please
Know you’re my best friend
‘Til the very bitter end
When I’m in your eyes, I’ll never pretend

Cos the doves may fly from our carrion
If the vultures dive then the evil has won
But our meat will fry in the burning sun, as one

The Weight of This Room

Well I spent a day or two pushing you around
I spent a week after that writing it down
No-one would come along, nothing would go boom
And All I could feel was the weight of this room
It always seems to happen when I’m about to leave
In between the pain in my chest and dirt on my sleeve

Always on the outside with opinions to say
Now I’m on the outside running away
Petrified of silence like I’m in a cocoon
And all I can feel is the weight of this room

And I wrote this song with a burnt-out chest
Not for the winners, for all the rest
You can hand it to me and I know I’m blessed
Cos it’s you that stood that test

So if it’s my destiny I can see in your eyes,
Frightening to say, hard to realise.
We can run on the beaches, build a house on the plains
Cos you reached inside, touched the blood in my veins
So forget the malaise and the impending doom
Cos all I can feel is the weight of this room.

And I’ll wipe the tears and the sweat from your eyes
I’ll be the wings on your soul when it flies
From the side of a mountain, from a beautiful tomb
Where all we could feel was the weight of this room

And I wrote this song with a burnt-out chest
Not for the winners, for all the rest
You can hand it to me and I know I’m blessed
Cos it’s you that stood that test

Robin in Black

Well I was staying in the black, underneath the sun,
Playing with the boys and having some fun
One day I got so drunk that I couldn’t see
Still you drifted into sight right in front of me
I asked you some questions, I told you no lies
Your smile cut a shape into my blurry eyes
Now I’m bewitched from your gentle attack,
My blond-haired Robin in black.

So then I make a bit of effort, learn a bit more about you
Through your facades I’ll be lucky to break through.
There are layers exposing from the image at the start
As you smoke cigarettes you reveal a beautiful heart.
And you say you don’t drink, well that could be great
Cos my brain is half-dead from alcohol intake.
I start to suggest I could be the man for you
And your body’s saying yes like you want it too
So I ditch all the other girls in the queue to the back
I’ll wait ’til tomorrow for my Robin in black.

Oh cos now I’m bewitched my brain ain’t turning back
For my blond-haired Robin in black.

Now the third time I see you, you say with a grin
That you belong to a man and you’re living with him
Now you’ll be perceiving, you won’t need to be told
That I’m feeling sick now and my blood has run cold
Well steady yourself Russ, what are you gonna do?
She ain’t leaving the table, she still wants to talk to you
She makes me apologies and tells me no lies
I could curl up in the corner and die
Time to nibble my nails and leave my jaw slack
For my blond haired Robin in black

Cos I have to confess that this news ain’t the best
Cos there’s you and there’s God and fuck all the rest.
I could try and be your friend but I didn’t know it would sting
Like a jab to the heart with a broke wedding ring
I’ll be sleepless for days my brain will probably crack
For my blond-haired Robin in black.

Oh and I’ll look for you in every mirror I crack
My blond-haired Robin in Black

The Chosen Few

When the winter comes, I’m gonna let my boat drift away
I ain’t got the patience for sailing in the rough anyway
When the spring comes, we’re gonna build another boat in her place
It’s gonna catch the wind and fly like a paper bag
Straight down the river into your city place
And all the bridges are gonna have to move
As we take over the cityscape water
Freeze it like a lake in the new order
Freeze The Thames in a pretty symphony

So what do you do in the city when the river’s frozen
A Boat comes along, made us all the chosen few
What do you do in the city when the river’s frozen
A Boat comes along, made us all the chosen few

Oh the party’s gonna start in the days of June
It’s gonna continue through the light of the moon
People will meet who they never would’ve met
And summer’s gonna end too soon
Oh people will fall in love with people from races they never heard of
We’ll drink it all down in the summer of the town
On our frozen river before it thaws off
And all the suited-up gents can fight it out
Over the price of the new square feet
Cos even though it’s ice it’s still worth money to them
The problem is we’re giving it away free

So what do you do in the city when the river’s frozen
A Boat comes along, made us all the chosen few
What do you do in the city when the river’s frozen
A Boat comes along, made us all the chosen few

Good Fear

Sailing to the south, looking west
Back to the north with a deep breath
Dreaming of you coming with me
If we were not lost in this damn city
And it bleeds like a wound that will not heal

There’s a blanket of frowns on your bottom lip
A head full of dreams that you can’t let slip
So carve it all into your forearm
The only way out is if we stop remaining calm.

And get a little bit afraid of staying here
A little bit terrified of playing round here
So whisper it into my ear
We need some of that good fear

So if the weather turns sour we’ll be chopping logs
If the car breaks down it’s a walking job
But never no frowns, this is all we need
It’s all we know and it’s all we believe
So don’t make it so sad like a gift unreceived

So I’ll end this little song with a bitter prayer
I hope you disappear and reappear there
Meet down the end of the lane at the last farm
The only way out is if we stop remaining calm

And get a little bit afraid of staying here
A little bit terrified of playing round here
So whisper it into my ear
We need some of that good fear

Victory Parade

Well I started in the navy, I ended up flying a plane,
But they flew me over my old house
They said ‘your country, it needs you’
But that just drove me insane.
I broke my leg and I was out
And I had to find something else, something else to do
I tried the paints and the ink of my purple pen
Oh but I think I left it way too long
So I drifted along my open streets,
Ducking the bullets that came
From the frisbees and the footballs and the rain
And I had to duck when I saw a dove flying 20 overhead
Cos they told me that’s an unsafe range
And I had to find something else, something else to do
I tried the cards and pages of the lengthiest tome
There’s a signpost to my heartstrings in the army’s book of the dead,
But I couldn’t tell you the way there on my own.

And my mother and my father, they’re so damn proud of me,
For defending their triangular isle.
But I feel a little tremble in their voice and in their hand
I see a quiver in the corner of their smile.
So what did you give me and what did take?
Cos you told me not to weaken or let my soul break
And sir, it ain’t broken, didn’t I do well?
And didn’t you just send me half way to hell.
But please tell me, what is this ache
Won’t you tell me, what is this ache.
Cos I’ve got find that someone with whom to share these blues,
To find out if they’ve turned to the darkest shade.
Could you be the one?
It ain’t gonna be much fun finding out how this man was made.
Cut me open and if I’m broken,
Throw me in front of the victory parade

Pale Mary

Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of egos and paint-less expressions you shine through.

You’ve got all of the wisdom that you’ll ever need in your eyes
But it didn’t come from books, no elegant crooks,
Who tricked you and told you those lies.
And those eyes turn bright black in the sun
As you try to ignore everyone
And you don’t seem to care which way they all stare,
As you think about your next footstep

And I can’t try and summarise your plan
No that’s impossible for any man
And any man who tries, wound up and let fly
As you leave him lost and confused

Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of egos and paint-less expressions you shine through.
Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of broken hearts, yours is the one I cling to.

And just when I think you are gone
You turn round with a smile
That’s part right and part wrong,
Part making balancing hard on this ground I stand on.
And on those special days, when you talk to me
I suddenly feel like I don’t wanna be free
I wanna be your prisoner in that tomb of your heart.
I wanna forget all the things that I knew from the start.

Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of egos and paint-less expressions you shine through.

And this was no surprise to me
But it was a surprise to you
Cos those people fell in love with the things they dream of,
When they have the privilege of looking at you.
And you could drive a man to drink.
You could drive a man to the edge of his brink,
So I’ll keep my heart guarded and my brainwork retarded,
‘Til I’m sure you won’t soup out of my heart

Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of egos and paint-less expressions you shine through.
Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of broken hearts, yours is the one I cling to

Jet Black And White (2010)

Dreams and Country Lanes

Make a note of his interference,
‘cos the devil, he told me to hold you.
I don’t think too much alone these days my dear,
Id rather ramble on the rooftops, underneath this blistered moon…
painting pictures of the day I met your soul mate:
He said ‘You can have her for a pot of gold but it’s a chance you take’.
And he said ‘I know what I’ve got, but I know what I’m not,
so if you think that you can love her like a saint, then take your best shot.

‘Cos she’s worth more than dreams and country lanes,
take her on and try and love her if you’re feeling brave.
‘Cos she’s worth more than dreams and country lanes’.

He said ‘That can be arranged but she cannot be changed,
if you want someone you can paint over, then go and find a pretty Miss plain.
She’s gonna wanna take you up onto the rooftops
and peer through the windows onto people who have committed no crime.
‘Cos she’s worth more than dreams and country lanes.

And when you think you’ve messed it up and given her the worst night of her life
she’ll turn around and say ‘I love you’ 3 times.
And that will be it, the spell will be made,
you’ll be entranced by her forever,
for you now it’s just too late.
And when her soul mate comes around
you will have to fight to the death for the life you didn’t even realise you’d found.

‘Cos she’s worth more than dreams and country lanes.

And that country lane is warm with scent of lavender,
and her hair will make you dream of the sounds that come out of her.
The wind may start to blow and there will be crossroads
where she’ll take you by the hand and lead you down to the devils lane.
And its there that her spell will drag you out of hell and you’ll enjoy every second,
and never look over your shoulder.

‘Cos she’s worth more than dreams and country lanes’

Red Rag

I found you in Spain, crying with pain,
wet from the rain, completely insane – I’ll try to help you.
Send me to your cynics, put me under your lights,
I wont dodge their bullets or duck out of fights – I’ll stand here like a target.

And I’ll be the Red Rag to your bull.

I saw you up West with a badge on your chest,
like ‘I belong to him, he lets my heart sing’
but your heart ain’t singin’.

Its perfect and new, battered and bruised,
another fake smile, another excuse.

And I’ll be the Red Rag to your bull.

And you think I can’t take it but I think that’s a shame ‘cos I’ve learnt to enjoy how they play this game – so place your bets.
Its walls and ceilings, pains and feelings,
another door closes, it’s so revealing.
Oh lend me your powers for a couple of hours,
lets see what they’ll do for a bunch of flowers.

And I’ll be the Red Rag to your bull.

Oh I’ll be the page that’s better left un-turned,
from the book that’s better off doused in oil and burned.
And I’ll be the peg that never quite fits in the hole that was made by them for it – for you.
Call me a man who’s wasting his time – a peasant, an idiot, committing your crimes – a fool.

And I’ll be the Red Rag to your bull

Liars Blues

If you’re leavin’, go ahead and walk away,
I never even wanted you to stay.
If you think I’ve got the blues, you’re confused.

Well I can hear people sing ‘Baby don’t go,
I’ll lay down and die, slit my wrists if you go’.
But that don’t apply to you – I’d love it if you left me alone.

You’re a thorn in my side, a blister on my finger when I’m playin’ my guitar,
imitating other singers.
Won’t you leave me alone?
Pack up your bags and go.

And roll down your windows, let the motherfucker roll.
Don’t let it be red or green or blue that tells you when to go.

Well a wiser man than me – a wiser man than I could ever be,
he was sittin’ there on the teevee, sayin’ ‘The blues is the truth’.
Well I could barely see; my black and white teevee was so bruised and crackly.
He started to sing, I knew the blues weren’t the truth.

So roll down your windows, let the motherfucker roll.
Don’t let it be red or green or blue that tells you when to go.

So if you’re preachin’, go ahead and talk away,
ain’t gonna listen to a word you say.
If you think I love the blues, don’t delude.

If you think I’m playin’ blues you’re confused

Sentences and Words

These shoes are not meant for a man like you.
These shoes are gonna make everybody hate you.
You need an audience and a national stage, a speakerphone, possibly a parade.
But you’re never gonna get it; you’ll always be reviled – despicable entertainment and sordid smiles.
You can keep on talking; no-one will ever care.
You’ve got sentences and words, so lay them bare.

These shoes are gonna make everybody hate you.
You need minutes of tranquillity, pools that glisten, a hand to hold, and ear that will listen.
But you’re never gonna get it; you’ll always be reviled – despicable entertainment and sordid smiles.
You can keep on talking; no-one will ever care.
You’ve got sentences and words, so lay them bare.

‘Oh there is a special patron on this bandit bus of yours – forlorn and damned, what you say? You left him in a drawer. He never wanted anything but respect that is due to a man who signed upon the line and went to war for you. Dressed in the garb of pre-educated man, carrying the load of the subject that you damn. There is a human being riding on your trip today. Care you to even turn around, hear what he has to say? Eat your zippy fast food and pollute your tiny brains with the celebrity of no-one and the humour of his pain.

Bells for this, bells for that, ‘oh look’ its time to eat again, man ain’t you getting fat?!’

Migration Song

Another year, reflections get longer, walls get stronger.
But you and me can’t lose what we’ve found, and soon we won’t be able to look around.
Its me and you.

Oh ‘cos now you wanna creep to the one you think you wanna be with and compete with.
Its me and you.

Now I can’t escape, my body migrates.
This leash around my throat is tied along a broken boat.
Now I can’t escape, my body migrates to the place I wanna be,
But this trip will be the death of me.

And it could’ve been, this trip could’ve gone and not drenched me in sin.
But as it is I’m driftwood returned with gouges and burns – for you.

‘Cos now I can’ escape, my body migrates.
This leash around my throat is tied along a drifting boat.
Now I can’t escape, my body migrates to the place I wanna be,
But this trip will be the death of me

Pale Mary

Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of egos and paint-less expressions you shine through.

You’ve got all of the wisdom that you’ll ever need in your eyes
But it didn’t come from books, no elegant crooks,
Who tricked you and told you those lies.
And those eyes turn bright black in the sun
As you try to ignore everyone
And you don’t seem to care which way they all stare,
As you think about your next footstep

And I can’t try and summarise your plan
No that’s impossible for any man
And any man who tries, wound up and let fly
As you leave him lost and confused

Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of egos and paint-less expressions you shine through.
Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of broken hearts, yours is the one I cling to.

And just when I think you are gone
You turn round with a smile
That’s part right and part wrong,
Part making balancing hard on this ground I stand on.
And on those special days, when you talk to me
I suddenly feel like I don’t wanna be free
I wanna be your prisoner in that tomb of your heart.
I wanna forget all the things that I knew from the start.

Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of egos and paint-less expressions you shine through.

And this was no surprise to me
But it was a surprise to you
Cos those people fell in love with the things they dream of,
When they have the privilege of looking at you.
And you could drive a man to drink.
You could drive a man to the edge of his brink,
So I’ll keep my heart guarded and my brainwork retarded,
‘Til I’m sure you won’t soup out of my heart

Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of egos and paint-less expressions you shine through.
Pale Mary, pale you
In this room full of broken hearts, yours is the one I cling to

Great Things

(written by Thomas Hardy)

Sweet cyder is a great thing,
A great thing to me,
Spinning down to Weymouth town
By Ridgway thirstily,
And maid and mistress summoning
Who tend the hostelry:
O cyder is a great thing,
A great thing to me!

The dance it is a great thing,
A great thing to me,
With candles lit and partners fit
For night-long revelry;
And going home when day-dawning
Peeps pale upon the lea:
O dancing is a great thing,
A great thing to me!

Love is, yea, a great thing,
A great thing to me,
When, having drawn across the lawn
In darkness silently,
A figure flits like one a-wing
Out from the nearest tree:
O love is, yes, a great thing,
A great thing to me!

Will these be always great things,
Great things to me? . . .
Let it befall that One will call,
“Soul, I have need of thee”:
What then?  Joy-jaunts, impassioned flings,
Love, and its ecstasy,
Will always have been great things,
Great things to me!

The Worlds Oldest Confession

If I go to you will I lose a piece of myself, never to be found again?
If sex is a chore and you are a whore then I cannot be your friend.
‘Cos you pays out your money, you loses your voice, for you can never judge again.
Or is that said, a remark of the brain-dead? And are you a bigger man than I am?

All it took was a book from a man with a pen and opinions on how life should be,
And all was forgot and the best looking spot on your body was staring at me.
Oh the worlds oldest confession is the one that we make to our wives:
the terrible phrase that; ‘we spent our days in the bosom of a destroyed life’.
‘Cos you pays out your money, you loses your voice, for you can never judge again.
Or is that said, a remark of the brain-dead? And are you a bigger man than I am?

Oh the worlds oldest confession is the one that is never made

Waves of Bravery

Well I don’t feel like saving anything today,
And it pains me to the core to say:
That I’ll be locking myself away.
Everybody else can show their face,
I’ll be hiding away in my safest place,
Sinking in and losing pace.

And you’ll be out riding on waves of your bravery.
You’ll be out wailing and scaling those mountains that I see out my window.

I’m only alive if you say so
And this journey got a way to go,
So strap to my back the things I need,
‘Cos I’ll leave this house before I concede.
I’ll travel down to your nearest sea
And find what’s waiting there for me.
Give in, return gracefully.

And you’ll be out riding on waves of your bravery.
You’ll be out wailing and scaling those mountains that I see out my window

David

In this putrid little city where David lives and David will die, David has looked one too many people in the eye. The only thing he cares about bleeds once a month and doesn’t die – blonde hair and blue eyes.  Everybody’s on a journey, its just David started early, he a foreboder, bad luck owner, good luck proner. He’s a wannabe drunk and a try-to-be stoner.

And this day, this week, this month David feels like the next person he will see could be his best friend or his enemy. And that? That’s the way it goes, it’s the only way he knows ‘cos he’d never trust any one of us.

He goes to see an ‘angel’ for an hour at a time; she’s the only one who can satisfy his mind. He never tells his sweetheart, he cares more for her than for the stars that shine/the hands of time.  He sits there and he tells her about his hopes and dreams, how he wishes he could punish all the queers and thieves – Davids only real crime is honesty.  The Angel sits and listens with a lump in her throat, she knows that David could be great but he won’t – he’s too eaten up with the pain of this world and she really wishes she could’ve been his girl. She would’ve set her self straight, taken him away to all the places where he could forget about all the hate.

And this day, this week, this month David feels like the next person he will see could be his best friend or his enemy. And that? That’s the way it goes, it’s the only way he knows ‘cos he’d never trust any one of us.

David’s got this road that he likes to walk down, on the edge of town where even the landlords frown. On one side of the road is a little row of houses where he lies in wait to put in the final bid. On the other side of the road is a river of the purest black, where he could end it all if he felt like that. Underneath this bridge at the end of the lane is a place where David can go and go insane for a little while – write over other peoples graffiti and see what happens for a little while.

And one day he’ll tell his sweetheart all of his secrets, take her to his places, show here the faces that get a reaction – that don’t make him feel so pale and unobserved like hers. She’ll smile and say in rhyme that she knew all the time, she’s been watching from afar, falling in love with the way things are, and Davids little reportage.  She’ll say ‘I love you now, more than I ever did you fucked up little twister, now give me your kids’.

This day, this week, this month David feels like the next person he will see could be his best friend or his enemy. And that? That’s the way it goes, it’s the only way he knows ‘cos he’d never trust any one of us

My Bluest Field Of Lavender

Fevered from the breeze on the lane, I called out for more.
Fearing that I was insane, she opened the door.
She said ‘There are so many roads through this forest, why’d you have to go and pick mine? I haven’t seen anybody for oh such a very long time’.

She said ‘The love that is made in the cities is disgraceful and in-divine,
The things I could show you within here would place you in a different mind.
But there are so many years ‘neath my belt now and my motives I fear are unkind.
There are so many hearts on the market, why’d you have to go and pick mine?

You’ve been tapping on keys for pleasure, drinking gallons of poison for pain.
And Oh if I could only befriend you, I’d leave you cleansed, renewed and changed.
But I haven’t felt anybody, in oh such a very long time.
There are so many minds to indulge you, why’d you have to go and pick mine?’

So the love that we made was half-empty and subdued like a 21 year old king.
When things broke down there was nothing else to do, we’d just sip berry nectar and sing.
And she remains to this day my bluest field of lavender.

So for week upon week I stayed with her, learning everything I’d ever need to know
About the birds and the bees and the breakdown of modern life and everything we know.
She said ‘There are so many things that approach us, I could tell you but you’d be terrified. There are so many species to save now, why’d you have to try and save mine?’

She seemed to have enough love for men like me, but never quite enough for she.
I really really wanted to save her soul, stay with her for the next eternity.
And Oh if I could find my way back there, that future would surely be mine.
There are so many lives that she could’ve started, why’d she have to go and start mine?

So I stumble through this town with my daggers drawn and my eyes set to ‘Leave me alone’, dreaming of the girl who took me in – the only human I’ve ever known.

And she remains to this day my bluest field of lavender

Dream Token (2007)

Dirty Company

Well the same thing has happened that has happened before,
I’ve fallen for her, my hearts on the floor.
Patterns of a candle-bearer walking his route,
Leave a trail of despair to his one and only troop.
That’s me I speak of, me that, I swear,
Cannot bring himself to meet and not care for
a feline, a woman, of any shape or size.
Private thoughts bellowed, heart bare in front of her eyes.

No time for envy, no time for pain, just get on that transport
and return to the frame where you were happy and free,
‘cos failure and toil make dirty company

Dead Baby Blue

(or a dictation of a nightmare at 4am, with dead baby blue sky over Hackney)

With your breath on my face, why did I wake at this time?
With the sky dead baby blue, like a nasty nursery rhyme.
Are you grateful for your cherries you partisan of big regret,
Are you hanging up your stocking on the wall,
In case, ‘God forbid’, you should forget….

I wanna name this sunrise, name this sunrise: Dead Baby Blue.

Im spending a lot of time in train stations and
Im changing trains regularly.
Im sitting in a packed carriage, missing all my friends,
but knowing everybody in this vicinity.
Im involved in things that I don’t wanna be involved in
and I feel like a player in the game:
Next to me is where they lay the blame.
And its only so long ‘til I take it all,
And I wish that I was just a fly on the wall…
The other passengers look over their shoulders at me,
Giving me icy cold stares that chill me to the bone.
I think I want to go home.

I wanna name this sunrise, name this sunrise: Dead Baby Blue.

And then my hair became knotted and tangled in the night,
And my sofa is blood red,
And my carpet is a colour that I cant even comprehend.
The sky is like a blanket that I cant see through,
And theres only one thing I can do.
Theres only one colour it can be

Story Gang

Everybody’s got a little story to tell, from the bankers and the bookies to the bombers in their cells.

My fingernails are jagged and my hair is torn,
I care less about things since the day I was re-born.
When I met that mystic gentleman and he told me his lies,
He was festered and pestered me with proverbs and flies.
He said: ‘these stories are not ours, they fly past, we catch them in a net’.
He was the craziest motherfucker I had met.
But he became my friend and he made a lot of sense.
Its easy to make sense of lies if that’s the way your brain is bent.

And we are the ones youve been dreamin’ of:
The ones who finish off your stories…..Story Gang.

This story may not help you, these words may fail,
But I just read a book that made me wanna chase my tail:
About a man who couldn’t fathom water in his cup,
And now that Ive finished it I wanna tear it up.
So what do you say to that bookworm? Do you feel like lynching me?
Do you wanna see me hanging from the nearest year-old tree?
Well catch me if you can you fucker I can run for days,
These polluted city branches couldn’t hold me anyway.
(this part is about ‘The Trial’ by Franz Kafka)

We are the ones youve been dreamin’ of:
The ones who finish off your stories…..Story Gang.

To be a member of this gang, you don’t really need to hang around with us.
We’re all individuals and we’re too wrong to trust.
The only thing we do together is jump in peoples heads,
When our own stories are over or the inspiration’s dead.
And everybodys got a little story to tell from the bankers and the bookies
To the bombers on their cells….

And we are the ones you’ve been runnin’ from:
The ones who finish off your stories…..Story Gang

Tinsel and Metal

Pick up a page and write, I wrote some verse,
I stole a curse from a lady who wore black velvet and pearls.
She lived by the sea, she tempted me with riches
and wares beyond my wildest dreams.
‘Why so?’ she said.
She was older than me, so it went.
She was fair, wrinkled in all the right places,
she pulled the right faces, and left me alone.

Mice crawled, birds brawled, outside our window,
But we didn’t really look up from our books,
Or wear any clothes, but lied inside, on the interior.
Like shells on a mantelpiece, when dust settles
Because nobody cares, nobody cares.
Because they’ve got better things to think about.
‘Why so?’ she said

Blood on the Coals

(about Shoreditch circa 2007)

You better keep those neon lights on,
Even when the sun has got his hat on.
This aint just a weekend place, people live here in the week,
But their jeans aint so skinny, and their hair aint so sleek.
You’ve gotta trick that magic duck to get the money in his beak.

O Felton is running, hes running around….
Making pennies and pounds from the talent that he thinks hes found.
Well good luck to him, hes the honest skag-head in town.
(Felton drew these amazing childlike drawings and sold them to dum tourists and suits in Hoxton, he used to make more money than I did working in a bar, bless you Felton, wherever you are)

‘And this is the way of the world’ she said.
‘don’t fight it, just swallow your pride instead’.

And these streets aint even dirty, theyre just in dis-repair.
This wouldn’t ever happen in West London where they actually
Care about the people that fall down the holes.
There aint no atmosphere here, its just blood on the coals.

‘And this is the way of the world’ she said

You’re Pretty Tall When you Stand Up

‘Your’re Pretty Tall When you Stand Up’ she said.
You know why I don’t stand up?
I just feel like somebodys gonna hit me round the back of the head.
But if you’ve go the time, for rescuing someone….let it be me.

I wont take your little red pills, and I wont take the blue ones either.
If she told me all her stories, would I care? Would I ever believe her?
These things happen for a reason, and if you need a reason, please, let it be me.

Write it on your tiles dear, scrawl it on the ground.
‘cos if you really think you’ve found me, then fuck it, maybe I’m found.

And if your hearts in the right place, then please, give it to me.

Theres a little path we can take, it goes straight past hell.
Through a field full of lavender, to a wishing well.
We’ll tell ‘em all the things we want and they might just see us good.

Bleed

I’m not gonna like something just cos you say.
I’m not gonna run away. I’m not gonna go away that easy.

The lion in you and the lion in me, they will come to blows, god knows.

Im not gonna fight in the way that you need.
I’ll break things, I’ll smash things up, I’ll bleed.

And all your philosophy wont mean a thing.
I won’t let it win, I won’t let you win, unless you bleed.

Dictionary Man

A poker playing heavy this man will never be, hes too interested in his dictionary.
So convinced that shes lying to me, too transparent to ever ever see.

Shades of yellow and shades of red, thoughts of collapse and failure in his head.
And every single morning he wishes he was dead.

He walks though his life like a suit in the street, pale un-noticed, unwittingly discreet.
He describes the moon to others in inches and feet, hes so distracted that he forgets to eat.

He’s mean, he’s lost, he’s lonely.

But he loves his friends and the people he has met,
Up in the hills above the grime and the wet cement,
Where he looks down on the city with a bloodshot eye,
And a pretty bird flies in the sky.
Theres a girl up there in a meadow
who will take him for the man that he used to be,
pick roses in his company,
make him forget about the man that he wants to be.
And they’ll put up all their possessions for sale,
And he’ll sell his razorblades and his cat-o-nine-tails,
And they’ll live happy-after in a fairytale,
Cos she’ll be doin’ the whippin’ from now on.
And they’ll look down on the city with their bloodshot eyes,
And they’ll cry for the years that they tried to survive
In a place where they couldn’t see the light of their lives.

The Belly of the Beast

(written mostly on the outer wall of a graveyard in Mile End)

You gotta wait around for her to come,
But when she comes, o you better be ready.
Cos she wont stay long zand when shes gone,
She’ll leave you bare, drunk, on your own and unsteady.
And you better pray that you wrote her down,
Or next time she comes, you better make sure you’re around.

Oh im not sure that I can write these words on the run,
A fallen sign and a punctured zeppelin tell me that its just begun.
Words are wrapped around the cactus trees,
And I can see your god floating on the breeze.
Oh I write ‘p’s like my brother I write ‘z’s like my dad,
Her jet-black hairs a killer, and it the best I’ve ever had.

You wont believe the things we’ll see or what we’ll have to teach.
You wont believe the things we’ll do or what we’ll have to preach.
Hold on my friend, we’re now approaching the belly of the beast.

The sand is red and my bottles empty, I’m crying from the inside.
This 4-leaved clovers helping, but it came too late to stop this crime.
So now im walking homeward on a dangerous dim-lit street,
Dreaming of the time that I had speed at my feet.
My hair smells of coal, I can see my goal…..
Way up in the distance by the hanger for my soul.
That where I’ll hang it up when we jump inside,
Next to all of our belongings and the folks that we made cry.

As I fall down the slide I’ll grab you by the scruff of the neck and take you with me,
Cos youre the safest bet.
You can come along and keep our feet on the ground,
Tell me to be quiet when my ego makes a sound.
Wrap me in your arms, the quietest kid gloves,
In return I’ll treat you gently,
With a special blend of anger and love.

You wont believe the things we’ll see or what we’ll have to teach.
You wont believe the things we’ll do or what we’ll have to preach.
Hold on my friend, we’re now approaching the belly of the beast.

It’s so dangerous to ask her for your oblivion to come faster,
Cos’ I’ve already reached it, and I’m finding it card to care.
Lets leave behind our homes and disappear into thin-air,
Cos there remains nothing here for us, here, there and everywhere.
We’re now approaching the belly of the beast,
We’ve seen the North, betrayed the South and lived in the East.
We’ll catch their smiles and linger on well after they have died.
We’ll leave behind the memories of the ones that we made cry.
Timings bad and things were said that never should’ve been,
And we’ll return as different men, weighed down by the things we’ve seen.
We’ll tell them stories of the murder of our innocence and purity,
They’ll say we never had it in the first place, we can see,
That you’re the perfect travellers of mind and of psyche….
So bring us back a souvenir from the land of insanity.
Cos we don’t wanna go, we just wanna know,
How it feels to get dirty and to lose all self-control.
So write it on a postcard from the depths of depravity
And I’ll show it to my friends when they get bored of me.

You wont believe the things we’ll see or what we’ll have to teach.
You wont believe the things we’ll do or what we’ll have to preach.
Hold on my friend, we’re now approaching the belly of the beast

Blind Tour Guide

I don’t dance anymore, and I only wanna be with you.
I feel like your eyes have run me through,
Cut my heart into two.
You get half, I get half back.
And I have lost my blind tour guide,
He used to tell me places I could hide,
From commitment and from love,
But I was looking, I was always dreaming of….
Someone or somewhere to call home,
Someone who wouldn’t look at me and moan,
About my hair or my clothes….

She said ‘you’ve got telephone tourettes,
You’re too into making bets at the shop,
On the river and the flop,
But I love you anyway.
And hey, you don’t really look like the man of my dreams,
But nobody does it seems, except presenters on teevee,
But I don’t really think they’d like me’.
She said ‘I have lost my blind tour guide,
He used to tell me places I could hide,
From commitment and from love’.
But she was looking, she was always dreaming of,
Someone or somewhere to call home,
Someone who wouldn’t look at her and moan,
About her hair or her clothes….

The Sweetest Thing

You make it hard for me to ever say no.
You make sure its perfect.
So that nobody knows….

You take me to your special places…
Make time without you seem wasted…
You’re the sweetest thing that I’ve ever tasted.

Cos you’re a dirty little temptress,
Made of flesh and bone.
You don’t work like the rest of us.
You made my heart your home

Sick as a Dog

Sick as a dog with boredom, anger and love.
Dry as a bone beneath the wings of my black dove.
As free as a time when I had no home.
As free as a diamond set in stone.
It’s like a still time before some storm,
And I’m not sure if the storms even coming at all.
I feel ready for nothing at all,
Waiting to pounce when you fall.
Energy coiled inside like spring,
Wishing for the relief only your touch can bring.

Sick as dog who’s lost the owner he loves.
Knowing his home is not a place,
But a look on his face.
As free as a bird with clipped wings.
Waiting for the joy your love brings.
Its like waiting in a queue for a ride,
Knowing that the rides gonna take you where you can’t hide.
Cos I know I’m just bound to fall,
With no safety net, with no saving grace at all

All content copright Russell Joslin 2020.