The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

wake of the storm
everything been smashed
malls n markets abandoned
trees blown down
rubbish
trash
garbage
flotsam n jetsam
smashed windows
empty shops
rusting hulks
the brave and resilient people who made it thru
lord preserve them
we hit the gulf
the gulf of mexico
its warm
its balmy
over long bridges that go for miles n miles
over the sea
all the weird new cars over here i aint seen before
the humvees
the porsche 4 wheel drive guzzling planet draining monsters
the traffic abounds
we pass bellingham gardens and some bayous
dense thick swamps
a place for nevets yeblik to meet a voodoo chile
a real zombie n dead chicken allusion
push those pins in nevets
push those little pins in
whose effigy do ye burneth
now do the voodoo you do so well
all those shops with skulls n powder
but dont ask any questions about her
all your songs come back n bite yore ass nevets dont they
no no muse that is not the case
but your words torment you nevets…admit it at once
no muse it is the balm of the tormented man
that he may forget at will , i have this ability
and often do i exercise it…
then tell them nevets
tell them of alabama
tell them of mobile where yer best frend jc n mr sleigh
escaped from
muse, you know i was half asleep
listnin to hawkwind space ritual
i but glimpsed the city fromma dream
and drifted back
nevets tell them of the beggars at the service station
tell them of the explosion of vegetation
nature prevails…
itll take five minutes after humans disappear
before the jungle swallows this whole place up
and swallows it down too
tonite im in a nice room looking out at leafy hedges
a blue pool undulates in the sickle moonlight
there is a gentle haze over the world
light is diffused
the temperature is the most perfect temp i ever felt
you wouldnt want a split nano up or down
the night air fills up my stuffy room slowly
i blow a bone
i need to do some yoga
i need to call nk n doodles
but its so late now
and 2morrow another long drive to fort lauderdale
early morning
but i certainly travel
and i see such stuff
and i try to remember it
and drag it into songs
for y’alls pleasure
thats it
its early morning now
bye
sk

new orleans
how is it nevets?
its smelly thats for sure
loadsa overmade up women
with huge hair n loud voices
drunk people
dark bars selling shots n hurricanes
the (nauseating) smell of meat n fish cooking
live sex acts….bottomless…topless….sideless
t shirt shops
make levees not war
shady characters whisperin’ in doorways
voodoo shops
full of charms, masks, skulls, talismans, philtres, spells
old black blues guys playin’ on corners
the deafening sound of a hundred bars
full of a hundred geetar players
all playin’ the same olde tired 12 bar jive
tourists in their pastel clothes
fat policemen with silly uniforms
a car pulls up n a pretty girl rolls down the window
whatcha lookin for honey?
a million answers go thru my mind
but i say
“nothin'”
i wander round to the house o blues where we be playing tonite
its fulla the jesus n mary n day o the dead iconographia
the dressing rooms are amazing
they really look after ya here
i guess theres about 10 h o bs in the u.s.
great venues…someone shoulda do one in sydney
the venues in the u.s. really know how to do it right
great catering, helpful attitudes
the americans invented show biz
i guess they should know what theyre doing
its so humid out on the street
im instantly drenched in sweat
boarded up houses
empty shops
tantalizing glimpses of cool courtyards
w/ boston ferns n magnolia
its a lot quieter than the other times i been here
i go up to check out the roof pool
full of drunk white middleclass yobbos
i guess i wont be doing my laps in there today
i feel like such an outsider
the omnipresence of the alcohol is sickening
a town fulla pissed people
n its only 6 oclock
rah rah rah
not much for me to eat here neither
actually not really my kinda place
i miss the clean dry desert
this whole place hassa naggresive vibe
my hotel is real nice
but the air cond is freezing my ballzoff
its hot n humid outside
in here its ice station zebra
i dunno
i sounda bit negatori today dont i
nevermind we got our hands on some nice jazz records
and i do think i might give one of em a listen real soon
apparently not many tickets sold tonite
i guess the people who liked us mighta all moved out after
katrinas big blow job
i resist buying a t shirt that says
im surrounded by fucking idiots
i figure the other fellas mightnt like it….(whatta diplomat!)
anyway
thats it
i love ya
sk

goodbye austin
hello dallas
we drive n drive thru the 101 degree heat
huge highways choked with traffic
giant trucks n lorries speeding along
stop at a servo
want some turkey jerky?
or a little replica of the decalogue
(the ten commandments)
some olde people (even older than me)
approach us…
youre not from around here, are ya?

last nites gig was a good one
thanks austin
you were bohemian n cool
i dissed the prez
and no one booed
blah blah blah
we were raggedy but energetic
which is better than the reverse
i guess
we were potless tho
potless n bible black
whatever happened to the sixties
(ah they ended 40 years ago you goose)
jesus its not too much to ask…..is it?
a wee smoke before playin’….?
wanna zan x someone asks…?
no thanks druid
not quite the same thing
thats real drugs
not the god given herbal sacrament…….
but
you can get guns n fireworks pretty easy tho
gee
maybe i should try lettin off some crackers
before i play
i guess it cant hurt…

so im sitting back here
in the granada theatre
with big bucks burnette
petaluma our merch girl
n rob d
and im writing what i’m writing about
big bucks n i have just invented the “bloggcast”
actually im gonna do an unprecedented thing here
im gonna turn my blogg over to big bucks
whose gonna have a texas word with ya all
so here goes…..

********************************
(the next words you read will be bigs bucks)

THE NEXT HALLUCINATION
(Poem For Steve Kilbey)

Some call me a legend
But I’m just a rumor in my own time
I use capital letters
And to kilbey that’s a crime

Been with Willson-Piper
For far too long
But I have to give them credit
They wrote my favorite song

I can’t remember how it went
Can’t recall a single word
It hit my ears, I disappeared
Flew unseen with the birds

And all the buildings disappeared
My feelings came unwound
Another way of being
Was the next thing that I’d found

I circled many planets
But I never left my home
And not unlike Steve Kilbey
My heart was meant to roam

He’s made many, many records
I’ve made seventeen mistakes
I guess all kinds with different minds
Is what this poor world takes

Thank god that I met them
In a decade far away
You won’t believe what my friend Steve
Can do or think or say

He sang Cortez The Killer
With Tom Verlaine on stage
When it comes to what he knows
He’s written every page

If you catch a shadowed glimpse
In the backyard of the night
It’s probably Steven Kilbey
Finding something else to write

He never told us who he is
Or where he’s from or how
If I believe what I believe
He’s here before me now

But then again he’s prone to prose
At length in every nation
His favorite speech of how he seeks
The Next Hallucination

Angels, stars and small guitars
Are in his childhood bedroom
In his brain a choo choo train
Pursues a witch at mid-broom

This fairyland that claims his soul
Casts charm to him eternal
The world responds with yen and yawns
Reward is found internal

In closing I should tell you
He’s paid me now to lie
I’m guilty of professing love
And selling alibis

Goodnight children, kiss you now
Don’t forget to feed the tigers
You’re on your way to holiday
At Steven’s gig in Algiers

Bucks Burnett
July 28, 2006
Granada Theater
Dallas, TX USA Earth Universe 14 Over There
That One There

well there ya go
thats ole’ bucks for ya…
ever the poet
and folks
across the road from this gig
is the place where one night 20 years ago
we wrote nse+w
gee was it really that long ago ???
(yes)
tonites gig is in a lovely olde cinema
lovely lite show
great sound
texas is cool fiendss
dont believe the hype
the cool guys here are uber cool
cos of the opposing forces of cowboydom
its easy to be a fucking hippy in n bondi
but maybe its a little harder here in some places
things just aint so easy going here
and i can understand n respect that
it coulda been easy….
but it aint
and thats that
texas ah yer myth looms so large
johnny wayne
(real name : marion morrison)
davy crockett
jimmy bowie (no relation!)
jfk
zz top
(the one without the beard is frank beard)
buddy holly( early rock tradge)
stevie ray vaughan
willy nelson( love yer pigtails you big sissy)
roky erikson( hes a little nutty i hear)
charlie sexton( oh you pretty thing)
edie brickhel(mrs p simon)
billy preston (rip)
jr(from i dream of jeannie)
i dunno
the lone star state
the moon at night burns big n bright
deep in the heart of texas
we re leaving tomorrow
maybe i’ll never get to come back
if it takes as long as last time
i’ll be 67…
if i even get to 67
thats not a given
dont tempt fate you hubristic olde rocker
you could get electro-cuted tonite on the stage
ya never know when ye olde numbers are up
anyway
thats too gloomy for you fun loving blogge fiendss
so i aint gonna bring ya down with talk of my sad demise
(i bet i become huge the day after i drop off my perch)
never mind my grandchildren will live in lux
anyway
thats it for today
thanks b b b for the pome
thats to texass for being great audiences
thanks to my manager for letting me breathe
thanks to weather for making it seethe
good buy
goodboy
turn me on deadman
over
n
out
s the k
ps
a huge gushing thank you
to the dallas contributors to sks timebeing blogge
special jazz war chest
your sacrifice is appreciated
me

what should i tell em?

tell em nevets, tell em about the gig in houston
oh yeah..the gig in houston….
well i keep thinkin’ about this band called
the sacred cowboys
from melbourne
and they hadda song called
nothing grows in texas
and as i landed in houston
i thought how fuckin wrong they were
cos its greene here
and everything is growing all over the place
we hadda nold black lady called patricia drivin’ our cab
whaddya think of the bush family, patricia?
what do yall think? she replies
no no we say
what do you think?
well i don’ wanna say says patricia
cos of that little camera watching us up there…
she points to camera mounted in roof of cab
well i think theyre all pricks i volunteer
she looks at me n smiles
yeah i guess im along the same lines as you honey..

the gig is a huge old warehouse downtown
its a cavernous place
we get a not too bad amount o people
and they dig it
we’re a little raggedy n nervy but we
getta cuppla encores blah blah blah
(you see i cant really review my own shows
can i?)
afterwards a nice mexican woman tells me her 2 year old son
is learning to sing metropolis
fair enuff
we pack up n drive to austin
capital of texass
rob dickenson whose opening for us
drives our car
he wassa in a group called the catherine wheel
now hes solo
hes good too
and the audiences really dig him
last nite he came on in our encore
and slid behind the drum kit
i didnt notice for a while until the song
didnt seem to be going where it usually did
i look up and theres rob bashing the kit
while powlesy standin round shakin a tambo
robs an english guy livin in l.a.
hes pretty funny too
and we instantly like him
and hes one o the family
which means he gets to see all our squabbles n sulks
we get in about 6 am in the morning
our motel here is swarming with coppers
whats happnin officeer
i ask some porky sergeant
oh just some dead guy in a car he says
im shocked by his nonchalance
hes far more interested in who we are and where we’re playing
than “the dead guy”
would an aussie cop be so fucking callous…?
i guess these cops have seen it all
i wake up round one
and do my chi gong n yoga routine
whilst listnin to the instrumental ambient mixes of mimesis
nice work, polinski
i take my hat off to ya
and i wish i was in sandringham melbourne
in the cold winter
than here in this hot swampy heat
i look out my window
peddlars, beggars, flower sellers, tramps, hookers, n dealers
are plying their trades
at this huge intersection
where 16 lanes of traffic meet
some cops come along
and handcuff some n take em away
im always shocked by how america treats her poor
i mean
WHAT THE FUCK!!!??
you gotta nuff money to invade afgannystan n irak
but people here
(where fucknuckle w bush was the gov)
are so poor n desperate
where is the compassion?
how can you enjoy yer fuckin priveleged lives
n just drive past these unfortunates like they didnt exist?
i saw a rich bitch once step over a convulsing tramp
as she got outta her limo in new york upper east side
like he was garbage…
didja know georgey w
that yer bible says
(tho I KNOW YOU NEVER READ IT)
that its harder for a rich man to enter heaven
than a camel to pass thru a needles eye…?!
that means that all yer ill gotten gains
gonna disappear when you shuck off yer mortal coil
but you aint learnt yer lesson
its no good havin money when every body else is
livin in abject indecent needless poverty
but georgey boy
you dont give a damn
do ya?
but no one gets off scott free
and im sure theres a little equalling up the score
gonna happen
cos every action hassa equal n opposite reaction
and i can see the fuckin heavy judgement gonna send them
white rich warmongering IMBECILES
sprawling
watch out
yer next life s just around the corner
make the most of this one
OR BEWARE
vishnu sittin in yer hearts
hes watching everything
hes listnin to yer thoughts
he knows if you been good or bad
so be good fer goodness sake
anyway
its just like ole nostradamus said
its all gonna begin in the fucking middle east
the end o the world
(as we know it)
(and i feel sick)
you stupid idiots
all of ya
every goose who thinks rockets n tanx
can solve the problems of this world
i dont know
israel, lebanon, palestine
who can unentangle this mess?
but surely…
i wanna scream
when will we ever fucking learn?
we can build n fly huge aeroplanes
that can fly 4 hundred people atta time
we can trace genetic code
we can go into space
we can work out the largest prime numbers
and irrigate deserts
we can build tiny computers that can hold more info
than a library
but we just keep killing each other
i dont have any answers people
but why do we all have to go down the drain
for these belligerent bloody bastards…?
anyhow
that leaves me in my hotel in austin texarse
the heart of bush cuntry
but also a fantastic music town
fulla bohemians n hippies n artists n musos
n veggy restaurants n trees n students n good things
a place where the uber”straights” n the bohos
rub shoulders
im leaving for soundcheque in 30 mins
im gonna try n ring my family
see if they still remember their big daddy
thats it fiendss
if yer from austin n coming tonite
bring me some jazz ciggies if ya wanna good show
if not
well
beware

xxxxxxx
stevo

undulations in the graphs
the needles jump
the alkaloids merge
the chromatic ascent
the morning star
summer time over
black neon water
imperialista surprise
santa fes cool groves of pines
creature, what art thou?
followed thru the reeds n rushes
the magician
the scientist
the priest
the scholar
the neophyte
the hanged man
the future
what do you see in my hands
5 daughters and a long life
what do you see in my hands
money and suffering
what do you see in my hands
soothing touch in turmoil
the numbers stack up
partially chemical, partially spirit
i am
i slip thru the atmosphere
like electric intrusion
like x rayed luggage i am transparent
cooked up in the soup of life
reabsorbed in ozone stinking machinery
plated and pressed
minted and new
churning out the tunes
sing a song of sixpence
pocket fulla wry
mesquite trees
in the ordinary life and times
in the turning of the centuries
texas moon
texas tea
body of christ
impressions of another world
long avenues of the americas
the conquistadors
the indians
the mexican generals
remember the alamo
remember the moment before
forget yourself nevets yeblik
these anonymous rooms
the elevators to the 13th floor
the thunderstorm and its aftermath
alone under the blankets of air
no room service today
please do not peturb
connecting…..now!
knock knock
the window opens of its own accord
streets below
mixing in , blending in
millions of people
everyone doomed
a question of time
meanwhile………….
this is all we have
this
and the night
and the relief brought by sleep
dreams of dreams of dreams
days go by
days go, bye
what did you want again?
i’d quite forgotten
love is what we came here for
and a rusty white car
and where the badge was
i can still see the word
eternity

reedy n me drivin along thru the desert
in reedys infinity
reedys fiddlin round with the stereo
man hes got some weird stuff
popol vuh
neu
some french guy who does this sci fi thing
the roof slides back
the hot dry air rushes in
my thin fine hair flies up in a tornado
reedys huge beard is parted into a fork
vultures way up in that cloudy angry sky
the weird music n the weird scenery n the weird drugs
make everything combine in my system
i cant tell if im hearing the scenery
or looking at the music
kraut rock from the 1970s
desert from now
the desert is now
the desert allows no memory or projections
the desert has been waiting for me patiently
the desert in so many of my songs
the desert says at last
youve come home to me
stop the car
i say to reedy
you dont wanna get out steve he says
its 120 degrees out there n everythings gonna wanna kill ya…
no no its alright i say
he shrugs his shoulders
i climb out
the sun is excruciating
i stumble over rocks n stones
i look back at reedys white infinity
but everything has vanished in the heat haze
everything has disappeared
i am in the wilderness at last
the hinterland
the no mans land
things rustle n slide n move
i am no longer afraid
and then
miracle of miracles
the sky opens up
a blessed monsoon
i see the cactii snatch the rain from the air
small colourful birds appear and scatter
a fox or coyote in the distance all bedraggled
the rain falls around me but not on me
the desert protects me with its warm arms
the desert says you were always mine
the desert says youre tired, sleep a little
a small dark woman appears outta nowhere
i try to talk
she holds her finger to her lips
she is old beyond years
she is younger than tomorrow
her nose is like a hawks
her hair is black threaded with blue n white
her nails are like talons
her eyes are like 2 black stars
she shakes her head slowly
as she looks at me
we are in her house suddenly
i try to sit up
i say but reedys waiting for me back there
she smiles but she doesnt understand
its dark n cool in here
a desert owl perches on a windowsill
half in half out
the smell in here, strange yet familiar
something ive smelt before like herbs or something
markings on the wall must be navaho or something
the monsoon keeps on falling
she opens her back door and an ocelot strolls in
elegantly grooms itself n stretches out
on the cool stone floor
she gives me some food
im a vegeta….i begin to say
she holds out her hand towards the food
please eat now her eyes say
its some kind of soup
its delicious
she reaches out takes my hand n squeezes it
she says something at last in a language i have never heard
but i understand the meanings
youve wandered long my husband
no no theres some mistake i try to say
but the words come out all wrong
the mirror on the wall in the gloom
reflects some other face than mine
older n younger than mine
long nose, black hair, dark eyes
its you she says
the real you

the desert is outside
its all around
its everywhere
to think that there are oceans and cities out there anywhere
to imagine offices with fluorescent lives
pop charts n maps of love
to try to remember someone elses life
the people
the rush n the noise
well its impossible
the desert banishes these fictions
theres no fucking internet
theres no traffic jams n starbux
theres no sydney harbour bridge or eiffel towers
theres just the desert
and it looks after its own
and the cactii bloom and we make sweet sauces from its flowers
the underground water is cool n refreshing
the beasts stay outta each others way
one day i walked with the ocelot further than ever before
we came to a white car rusted on the side of a road
overgrown n reclaimed by the desert
i looked up real close
the car musta been there for years n years n years
there was a badge that was rusted away
but where the letters had been
i could still read the word
infinity

where are you now
a long way away
off in the distance
turned into a point
a speck in a void
a wave in the heat
the desert has engulfed me
i tried not notice
im shaking sand and pebbles out of my pockets
im walking in the sun and the rain
riverbeds
don van vliet
the vastness of nothing
suddenly i miss my home
i miss the ocean
i panic lazily
why am i here
this inferno is swallowing me
the englishman inside me is blasted
the australian is not so surprised
dry dusty trail
at the end of the rainbow another road
i am a drifter
shabby directionless temporary
i am a hermit in this desert
at the foothills of the mountains
i seek the philosophers stone among the twisted trees
the motels were mirages
the ice machine has melted
the carcasses of cars strewn over the sand
the memories of the good times
everything full of dust
the heat welcomes me like an old friend
the haze accelerates towards me as i sit here
out here where its nowhere at all
where are you now
im here in the shadow of the overpass
where 10 heads east and south
here amongst the black tarry stones
and the rusty cans
here where we laugh at the sun
everything has been fried, mister
nothing works here anymore
sure sure
take whatever you like
somebody else ‘ll come along if you dont
somebodies painted a bad picture of me
its already tomorrow and here i go
clouds gather
monsoon sends down a few huge drops
the monsters in the hills come out to drink
the rivers swell and flood
i need some medicine man
i need to escape from myself again
i need to run and run and run
down these carpeted corridors
and i need to find my door
i need to find my room
and then i’ll just have it made
then i can just coast
and the churning airconditioning
will freeze my headache

adios

here i am
in the greene room
tucson my man
oh whatta lovely olde theatre
whatta lovely part of town
whatta pleasant 115 degree breeze blowing down mainstreet
thats one way to keep he dope peddlars of the streets
115 degrees
actually its keeping everyone off the streets here
there aint no one out there on foot
around the edges of the towns are forlorn shacks
motels gone bust
ghosts in those dark boarded up broken down dreams mister
people lived n died doing it the hard way
living in the heat and hopelessness
of chickenwire, rusted caravans n wrecked cars
living inside in the airconditioning
the constant hum n hiss of the fans
the absolute omnipresence of the heat
i accept it
and it leaves me alone
like a big dog you treat cautiously n with respect
dont resist this heat
or itll chase you down n dry you out
dont hide from it
itll find you
just accept it
laugh about it
its like a blazing sauna outside
ah
but the desert nights
full of…..what?
oh something
you gotta feel it

the crowd last night were very very nice
the show went down well
i thoroughly enjoyed myself
showing off n being silly
when we lock in n fire on all four
we are inexorable
tim powles getting an energy burst
and the whole band lifts off
like a booster rocket has kicked in
pk n mwp are superb players
they still achieve the thing we go for
with accoustic guitars
we hadda ball
a lot more people there then ya mita thort
seems arizona n the cruchh can kiss n make up now
now tonite is tucson
and its a little more boho arty here than last nite
you know people read rimbaud at the rodeo
no no
im just kidding
im starting like arizona
ya gotta be tuff to live here
its almost like siberia in negative
i reckon i’d rather the heat than the cold
i reckon i rather tucson than glomsk
wow
imagine if yer mum was a navaho indian n dad wassa eskimo
youd have all climates covered
youd be able to handle the extremes
n
then imagine a boho n a “straight” having kids
youd get a guy who could write songs
and
read his recording contract

wherever i was lassa night
is a distant memory
oh yeah…….
oh yeah….
itsa all coming back to me
anaheim
we played a big place
it was a little empty
sometimes when this place is kinda empty
how those words haunt me at poorly attended gigs
anyway tho
we were magic
for what its worth
from my point a view anyway
patti hood played the harp like a goddess
have you grokked this yet…?
we hadda harpist playing with us
shes not here anymore
we gonna miss her
the harp n her playing lent an indescribable sheen
like fuckin’ fairydust sprinkled onto everything
dan from 91x was there
huh you fiendss out there thinka that ya true fanss?
dans gotta ipod EXCLUSIVELY FOR HIS CHURCHNSOLO COLLECTION!!!
thats a true connysware of all things chruchy
dan dan dan
if only more of those powerful execs loved the chruch
the way you did
ah well…..
itd bee so easy, baybee
its so hard to walk away
easy now
edit me gently
anyway the gig was easiest the best
a lovely venue actually
just far too big for a olde bunch in their twilit years n tears
like tonites place
a huge monolith of a gig in the middle of a desert
a hoarse with no name
miles 2 big for the cuppla hundred who are actually coming
rite now i have reid wilson
heatherspace
n jesuskrishna here backstage in tempe
in this mega venue where you could hide an army
my “biographer”
robby lurid turns up
hes interviewing pk
ive warned pk dont slanda me
or i’ll get even with ya online
ON MY BLOGGE!!
pk dont spin yer yarns n tall tales bout me
tell the everlovin’ truth
im a good guy
arent i….
arent i?
today the weather is 120 degrees farrenhite
its hotter than syddleys 110 on new years day
we stopped in middle of desert
it was so hot
the cactii fiendss
just like in the movies
badlands
dead rivers
vultures
twisters
tumbleweeds
railway tracks
gila monsters
piles n piles of rocks
miles n miles of hazy heat
blue jagged mountains
deserted houses
everything here is surreal
scorched dry beyond belief
now ive runnoutta time
too badde
see ya tomorrow
sk

why dont hotel room windows open in america
to stop people jumpin’ out
?
why the obsession with ice?
the pool is tepid
my shower only runs on hot
you cant get it cold or it turns off
so its a boiling hot day here in san diego
but the pools warm n the showers hot
?????????????????????????
and ice
and a.c.
but no cooling water or breezes
is something wrong here?
the pool water was like sliding into
tepid chemical soup
my skin began to itch
my eyes went red
and my poor thin fine hair split its ends
itsa lovely vista from my hotel
an absolute riot of trees
palms, oaks, elms
(as if i wood know what an elm tree looks like)
(but its nice to go on listing the lovely names
of the lovely trees)
birch, sycamores, honeysuckle w/ hummingbirds
hazy grey blue sky
i think of the spanish , zorro
it IS very like spain here
it IS a beautiful part of the world
but its weird too
laidback n expensive n slightly uptight
a sub-culture of (presumably) mexican maids n waiters
they appear n do things but it SEEMS like yr not supposed to talk to em
i said thanks to a guy taking away my plates
and he looked at me like
what are ya talking to me for
some things i guess im naive about
some lovely fans from mexico last night with vinyl
san diego belly up was our first good show here
but it was pretty good
good size crowd
great venue n equipment
good time guaranteed
we transcended, didnt we?
i thought so
now sitting in motel room
waiting for another intavu to come thru
steve?
im larry wankler from the bingle herald, nth dakota
i normally do the sport but the rock guys wife hadda baby
so here goes
um…tell me somethin’ about yerselves…ah,
why did yall call yerselves the church…and…ah..
tell me bout yer new record…i aint heard it yet tho…
it only arrived this morning, and i couldnt get the cd player to work
but i heard that other..
ok
this blogge is being interrupted by my conscience
who says
tell them nevets about the 2 very eloquent n knowledgable dudes
you just talked to
who knew all about yer music…
even this blogge
tell em how ya enjoyed the interviews
and they were nothin like what ya said
ok ok
its true
america aint all badde fiendss
the best stuff is THE best
AND
the worst stuff is THE worst
tonite anaheim
and itsa big place n we aint sold many tickets
boo hoo
why dont people wanna see washed up olde one hit wunderkinds
aussie hippy jingly jangly scruffy space rockers
i’ll never know
i love you fiendss
you are the very core of my sanity
please behave yerselves
the whole worlds watching
sk