The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

vishnu the preserver
iesus christos
krishna the avatar
and then next
buddha
and all prophets n seers n sages
n angels of the ages
bless this holy earth
the dreamy misty lakes
the green pointillistic trees a’swayin
the kind hearted people
the chemical factory guys who start work at 5 am
the broken down suburbs on the way in
the audiences in the darkness
the cops n the villains
the schoolhood buddies who got high together
the endless rivers of traffic
the gifts we receive
the girls with busted noses n single dads
the truckers swaying thru the night
the warm night
endless rolling undulating
the traintracks
the wire fences
the guys who got married too young
the history
the maverick quality
bless everyone
whoever you are out there
you always have answered my prayers
let these people get a little abundance
send their dreams to em with bells on
let everyone be a rockstar for 15 minuets
be fruitful
increase
gauge the truth
one sparrow worth more
than all them silver machines buzzin’ chicago today
i got glass in my big toe
my little toe is sliced open on a bed leg
no hotel tonite
milwaukee all accom sold out
deliver us from evil
send me home
aum

im sittin’ on the tenth floor of a chicago hotel
the gigs over ages ago
the applause dies down n fades
the people drift away
its raining
the hotel is quite horrible n sleazy
cars beep n bonk in the street
i feel sick
i feel empty
jus’ nothin’
i look in the mirror
a freckly familiar face
thin damp hair stickin’ out
those piercing eyes im so tired of lookin’ back at me
darling muse where are you now?
im alwayshere steven at your fingertips
muse why do i feel like this
steven, you drank a loada booze
you ate no dinner
you did no yoga
you drove 7 hours
you ran around for 2 hours in the hotspotlite
carrying a heavy plank o’ wood
you screamed out ya songs
you got hot n sweaty n giddy n silly
muse i feel a bit awkward now
muse i feel like i want my payoff
i want more than this orrible rheum
n this ringin’ ears
n this sore throat
n this lonesome fuckin’ feelin’
yeah yeah
ok i know im going home on monday
but right now
but right now
all i have muse is you
and youre just no one n nobody either
the rain streaks the dirty window
chicago street lights blur n distort
a fog comes down (over the marine city)
almost 3 in the morning
ha!
big song n dance man
a regular entertainer
w/ show biz in yer blood
rockn roll
so deep inna night it leaves ya stranded high n dry
i feel mortal
i feel olde
i feel vulnerable
dont rush to reassure me
in fact i forbid it
let me hurt n just read it
no advice please
itll be too late by then
if yer really my friends
then lemme cry on yer shoulders
but dont say nothin’
this is the empty side of showbiz
that you gonna get to see
the hollow parts
the bit that accounts fer all that drinkin’ n druggin’
n the crack ups n the suicides n the late nite swims in rivers
miles from home
lonely
tired but not sleepy
hungry but no appetite
disappointed with some intangible….
drums still bang bang bang in me head
noises of fighting and/or fucking coming from other rooms
you think i got it made?
wheres the glamour, baby….
and yet
its damn well under my skin
n just like a drug im hooked on it
and i wanna travel n play
and be a teenager till im fuckin’ sixty
grandad rock!
or what else muse
what else is there to do
get on the pension
be a postman
(i wouldnt mind that actually
put all the mail in the wrong boxes
shake it up a little)
anyway
i think i feel sweet brother sleep approaching
waltzing thru the chicago sky
n into my room
the traffic has almost died away
the occaisional cab hissing thru the puddles
everyone else is at a bar
bars dont work for me
poisonous noisy fuckin’ establishments
chattin’ up some boiler
or some turkey screamin in yer ear bout the footy
but good luck to em
jus’ what they all need
more booze
for their blues
n all the things
which turned us
in to
what we are

who did this?
you did
why?
i dunno
ok then

cleveland ohio
the home of rock
last nite in cincin ok
nice crowd
nice theatre
it was pretty good i guess
lovely dressing rooms
we go back to hotel after
up to roof garden
under the big red vernon manor sign
lookin’ out over the misty city in the weee small hours
have a smoke n a laugh
this morning we drive to cleveland
i arrive n do an interview
with 2 very cool guys in a religious bookshop
i drink iced peach tea
they ask about grant
bingo
the tears fill up mah eyes
still gets me sometimes
we talk about my favourite songs
jeff buckleys been on my mind a lot lately
forget her from grace #2
alternative take of dream brother
kanga roo
i stand out front of gig
meet some people
sign some stuff
someone gives me some jazz
(thanks nick!)
i i get to hug some people n get mah picture taken
hey honey i gotta picture with steve fuckin kilbey!
yeah but whos that olde hippy in the white shorts…?
oh…that is…steve…kilbey…
cleveland seems a little down on its luck as usual
all of ohio seems a little in disrepair
but not in a bad way
in an interesting way
gothic pointy roofs
weeds n trees
strange attic windows
the area here is kinda nasty
where the beachland ballroom is..
hey where the hell is the beach?
still all the people i meet are very nice
what would i know about cleveland?
i just got here
i have black beans n rice for din dins
people send vegan cookies grape juice, muffins etc
thank you
im sitting here under the gig rite now
rob dickos playin upstairs
pete n i do an interview with a lady
who doesnt seem to know anything about us
we walk into an underground shop(?) here
n a very tweaked lady walks up n says
i got under the milky way on my mind day n nite….
and then she says
who are you?
yeah whatever lady
have another margarita sweetie
the dressing room is long dark n hot
a loada fans hum n whirr warm air around
old bits of machines
busted up sofas
a room ful of gas canisters
im eating grapes
im drinkin pineapple juice
im smokin ohios finest
im waitin’ to go on
i should do yoga
i should unwind
i should empty my mind n forget myself
i think of jeff buckleys lyrics
dont fool yerself
she was heartache from the moment that you met her
yer hearts cold n still as ya try to find the will
to forget her somehow..
i think ive forgotten her now
oh jeff yer voice is such sweet sadness
i went down n hadda look at the mississippee river in n.o.
why jeff oh why didja go swimmin’ in there?
i wish ya hadna done it man
anyway
thats a mediocre lil blogg for ya
till somethin’ profound
comes around
and hey gareth of notts
youre a handsome bugger!
sk

today everything makes me sad
im staying in a hotel thats said to be haunted
a jilted bride threw herself of the roof
a long time ago
well its sure olde n spooky
some strange feelings in the night
troubled sleep
where are you?
in cincinnati
last night we played i.apolis
a lovely audience
n
we really tried too
but…
venue a little too bign new n empty
we never really got there
all the way
n
once you have it all the way
there is no goin back
anyway
renees comment from yesterday made me sad
is it just my messiah complex
i feel like i could really make it all better for ya
if only……
?
i want to make it better
i want to heal it
i want to undo it all
i want it to make sense for us
your lives should be filled with joy
where does this sadness come from
how did these evils get into this world?
who sent them n why?
we see our mumsndads workin for the man
trapped in hopeless mundane mortgage misery
countries fighting over ideas
people blowing emselves up for god
only god knows what bullshit that is
an’ we’re lashed to our rituals n society
n up to our eyeballs in debt
workin n studyin’ n being a waiter
and friends are hard to find
and then familiarity breeds contempt
we get money
n
we blow money
n we go up to 13
n we slide to 22
n we get older n older
n samosanx kitty kat ,
i miss that man too
and we do providence everynite here in the u.s,.
and i try to let grantley come thru my own voice
and i sing his words like he would have liked it
and i feel the place where he was when they filled up his mind
and it makes for a good concert
but it makes me sad too
cos grant was always a little sad
wearing his heart on his sleeve n jokin’ around
and today
i go down to get quarters
so i can wash my motley collexion of t shirts n shorts
i call my wardrobe
n i meet up with this big black bald guy
who works here
and immediately we both feel it
we have known each other forever
doesnt matter that hes the fuckin handyman or bell man
here in cincinnati
yeah i bet hes hadda tuff life too
but hes so cheerful
and we chat about life
and he doesnt care that im some olde stoned hippy
with scruffy hair n white beard
how are things goin’ for ya now he asks
implying that we are picking up some previous conversation
tho we have never met before
and thru his natural senses
he could feel i had things on my mind
and we talked
and later he bumps into me in the lift
how long yall stayin in cincinnati he asks
as if hes about to invite me over his pad
ah we’re leavin tomorrow i croak outta mah sore throat
we both feel glum for the rest of the ride
see ya we both say as i get out
i feel everything too much
sometimes my nervous system cant stand it
every piece of broken glass
every weed n paper bag
is trying to tell its story to me
the clouds in the sky
the trees
every face i see
every person i meet
the audiences
the girls who make the subway veggie sandwiches
the cats behind the garbo bins
the sad tollway staff
the dealers n the buyers
the people who bring gifts
the coat hangers on
the long hotel corridors
wallpaper patterns
everything
everything has significance for me
i have been overloaded with associations
since the moment i could think
they thought i was a fucking freak
but its just that my veneer wasnt thick enuff
and it doesnt keep the outside out that well
n
everything is crying if you can just hear it
n sometimes i can
n
all ya got to fight it is yoga n swimmin n music
or ya gonna get them blues
renee
n samo-kitty
n {{=}}
n all you others
out there
we gotta put some joy into this world
or else its unbearable
and to the person who said in a comment that you
lost yer child
i guess that puts it all in perspective for me
but i do feel it for ya
im feelin it rite now
n my glasses are misting up a little
tho i dont know ya
i would like to extend my deepest sympathy
and i wanna bring that child back
and i wanna bring grantley back
n my dad n jeff buckley
and fucking sort the middleeast out
put auroras tooth back in her head
remove the twillies nasty thing
get rid of my mums arthritis
and make everything right
the way we feel it should be
but it never fucking is
and i guess my messiah complex has really run amuck
and ya think
imagine this cat jesus
if he really existed
or the buddha
to be able to make it alright again
so everyone was happy
and no one was excluded
and everyone was fulfilled n content
and there was someone for everyone
i believe..
something inside tells me
we are right to long for this place
where everything is as it should be
and this is a mean olde sad world
somedays……

nevets
nevets
wake up again
oh muse….
i was having a lovely dream
oh a creamy dreamy dream
oh i was the time being
i was a bigtime blogger
hurtling up the charts
i was playing a fender bass
i was fiddling about with pastels
i was swimming in a cold green pool
i was travelling down an endless highway at dawn
i was walking in the empty places
i was blinking in the neon
i had a load of kids
all girls
2 sets of twins
i go all these places
people come up to me
i sign cds
i put this plastic card in here n money comes out
sometimes
i check in n out of rehabs n hotels
i get addicted to everything i touch
i long for a never ending stream of yesterdays
i play popol vuh on an ipod
i steam the creases out of my pants
i buy sox
i run out of things
i stand outside and talk to the bellman
i hang around where its desolate n read the tattered newspapers
i walk down railroad tracks n watch the buckle in the rail
i get born
i rush towards death
i meet my little sister
i undo what i have done
i am unmade when i make it
i lie in darknesses n writhe in insomnia
i gravitate to dust n ash
i give in n i give up
i write these songs about almost nothing
i blab on about myself
narcissus someone calls out
childhood exit stage left
auroras missing tooth
ellis cyst
minnas broken arms
evies stitches
my ears ring on
my eyes fade off
my imagination has gone haywire
everything ive ever done or said or sang
leading up to this moment
here
with you
and now
its gone
hasta la vista
baby

just when things seem to be going well…
and this is life…
i hear that aurora has smashed out one of her front teeth
her adult front tooth
oh no
dentist says pins
braces
root canals
maybe still lose tooth
(it was knocked right out in a fall)
i speak to aurora
im so so sad thinkin’ of all the implications…
she says its ok dad, my medicine tastes really nice..
i dunno what to say
i dont think shes realised the possible nastiness involved yet
im so upset
choked up all the way to indianapolis
(which is a fantastic name)
oh to be a human is a trip
up n down
round n round
i’d rather it was my fucking tooth that got knocked out
i love my daughters more than anything
even perhaps emancipation itself
and so you see
maya has ensnared me
with her beautiful traps
and all the beautiful things i stretch out my hands towards
they are all illusion
and they bind me
and they blind me
and then nothing changes
and i come back around
maybe aurora my mother this time
maybe joycie bennett will be my daughter
and i go to these venues
and i play my heart out
and i think now things will change
but everything is fleeting
and i read this graffitti
in the dressing room last nite
and make of it what you will
and please feel free to substitute the gender
cos its the same deal
NO MATTER HOW HOT YOU THINK SHE IS
NO MATTER HOW COOL,
SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE
IS SICK OF HER SHIT

and thats maya in action
the perpetual illusion
the beautiful illusions
and this illusion
i’m sitting in a very luxurious hotel in indianapolis
its the sheraton baby
and sheila chandra is on my ipod
and i just talked to an indian guy
who patiently guided me thru the process
of getting on the net
cos it was nae easy
and i wonder what the fuck im doing here
and then we have a great gig lassa nite
and bang!
i know why i’m doing it
cos im a musician
and thats my job
but who else am i?
how deep does it go?
and what will it take?
all this illusion
enlightenment a second away
always a second away
thank you william youre very nice
thank you wadey n moksha for alex grey paraphenalia
thank you all the others who gave of themselves
belfast frank for the licorice n being yaself
chris for telling off the hotel manager politely
ah hell
i appreciate everything everyone does
dear queen i use phone card everyday!
michigan is leafy n beautiful
an incredible midwestern sunset
a little mist
torn clouds filtering the dying sun
i have yet another subway veggie sub
i walk across a giant highway in middle of nowhere
and i feeel so fucking lonesome
so abandoned
just the hot roads
the trucks whizzing by
nothing cares about me at all here
these desolate places i love
the tracks n ditches filled with rubble
the overgrown alleyways
the weedy fences n lonely paths
where no one comes
here on my own
i will never bridge the separation
the separation is an illusion
the bridge is an illusion
the “i” is an illusion
this whole world is one thing
it is a fault in our perception
that we experience separation
i try to break thru with music
how naive….
theres only one way
its a lonely n austere path
its a path ya gotta walk everyday
no holidays
no special mitigating circumstances
its a path that may seem to be leading nowhere…
look at all these pretty ornaments nevets
why follow the path…?
what path?
the warpath?
the middlepath?
the path of least resistance
you woulda thought id have known by now
we fly down the vast american freeways
we stop n pay our tolls
we leave one state n enter another
another gig
another song
another red bull n jager
another dressing room
soon this will all end
it will seem as if it never happened
and thats like life too…
and life is pleasant
and life is painful
and the pleasant can bring pain
and the pain can beget pleasure
and ya never really know nothin’ fer sure
ya never know what th’other guy is thinkin’
and misunderstandings abound
and so do blessings
and so many ladders
and so many snakes
and thats your gig, baby
thats why yer here
remember
you read it here first
esscai

a lovely hotel room
a courtyard with playing fountains
a deep blue pool
trees everywhere
ah nevets you love those cool arbours
you are a celt
used to roaming the sacred groves
you love the trees
and believe
the trees love you
oh its so quiet here
an atrium
a grey overcast sky
the world is quiet
anyway
nevets
youve set the scene
whatta bout ye olde gig
did you rock?
yes i did
did you roll?
yes i did
did you sing every one of your words like ya meant it?
yes i did
did ya lovingly pluck yer fender jazz bass 1962 reissue?
uh-huh
did powlesys drummin send ya out into space?
why yes it did
and the audience?
lovely!
and the talking?
didnt notice
and did you find that jazz,mann?
i went out n walked down the line outside
and i called a spade a spade
when a kind man stepped forth
and my needs were sufficiently met
well thats it really
deetroit yer on my a-list!
that gig was a great load of fun
i really really enjoyed my old self
rocknroll fiendsss
oooh mah soul
esque

where are you now nevets?
ohio, in a hampton inn, room 316
its finally quiet
my room is sedate n welcoming
the bed seems very comfortable
the tinnitus sings in my ears
ah a job for some kraut rock to mask the whine
popul vuh….thatll do
now…
well we eventually got outta nyc in one peace
we hit the road to sellersville
lovely olde theatre
nice people
good gig
i read some where that some whinging bastard
thought we were boring cos we didnae play the olde numbers
gee i guess i musta imagined those 2 standing ovations then
always some wanka who dont like it
oh well thats life n thats the occupational hazard too
ive just driven all day across p.a.
whatta beautiful state
corn a swayin in the zephyrs
lazy meandering rivers
undulating hills
lovely olde houses
a lovely part of america….at least in summer
i guess its pretty bleak in winter
the weather is cooler here too
about 75-80
very pleasant
in fact i stood outside our hotel this morning
doing my chi gong
and i was totally blissed out
reminding me of sweden actually
later on i dropped a zxanax n smoked a spliff
strapped on the headies
and was completely surprised
when i woke up hours later at a gas station somewhere
i’d been out there in deep space
where there are no problemos
just the drift drift drift
we drive n drive thru tiny broken down towns
a town called sharon
(you are now entering sharon)
where everything seemed closed down
youngstown….no accom
i actually dont know where the fuck i am rite now
probably 5 minutes away from something or someone interesting
but what good does it do me
its sat’day nite
its 11 34
im on my own
weve had dinner
(a nother effing veggie burger w/ avocado)
i left the table early so the others get a decent chance
to bitch about me
it puts em off their vitriol if im in earshot
n
let me say
yer humble heros ears are burning like buggery rite now
ah
who cares
its like being in a family
only families grow up
n rock bands never do
how weird it is
sitting here where i dont know
on me lonesome
just popul vuh playing quietly in the background
maybe i’ll have a bath n play submarines
maybe i’ll get an early knight
maybe i’ll switch on the telly n see how world war threes going
im atta loose end
i ring home but nobody answers
its sunday afternoon in aust
funny to think of nk n the doodles n bumper out there somewhere
i wonder if theyre thinkin’ of me at this very moment
well ive met some of the famous commentators from these pages
krissy the grouper, a sweet young thing
baal n zeus, a wild hippy type
cst coach, lean n trim w/pretty girlfriend
melquiades whose bigger than he used to be
and a whole buncha others
thanks fiendss
you got me hovering round the 16, 17 mark
(i briefly hit 13!!!)
and that aint badde when ya think of 10 million bloggers in the us alone
i saw so much landscape today
i tried to remember it all for ya
but now my minds a blank(et)
im so weary atta cellular level
i aint had more than 4 or 5 hours sleep for weeks now
im too olde for this lark
need a holiday…
good gigs comin up
chicago…..yes
thatll be a good one to come to…
so come!
deetroit….hmmmm…not sure
indianapolis…..no idea..played there once in 90
cleveland (they never like us there)
cincinatti(ditto)
milwaukee….maybe….maybe not
san fran ah we’ll have la hoodie back
oh hoodie we miss ya
we miss yer heavenly harp n yer armenian slang
hows yer silver mogadichon?
so i dunno
a strangely unsatisfying bloggie
i shoulda made uppa poem instead
it aint all dancing on clouds
a bit of a drive left to detroit 2 morrow
the magic theatre eh?
hope to find some jazz there too as we’re out
i dunno
detroit scares me a little
am i just a coward?
dont answer that….
see ya in mitch again

fare thee well
stefano

i never know what im gonna write
till i write it!
even that!
and even that!
whatta life this olde hippy foole be leading..
im sittin up in bed naked
(under a sheet so dont let yer imaginations
runnaway with ya)
all around the deafening roar of machines
air conditioners
vacuum cleaners
machines out in the street
pulverizing tenderizing the ungiving ashfelt
guys on the roofs busting up concrete
garbage trucks gasping n grunting
chimneys n exhausts exude poison air in a filthy hiss
fuck
i need the equatorial stars
the ipod goes on in its little speakers
robert fripps snake like guitar leaps into my room
enos ambiences merges with the symphony of new yorks machines
im on the 11th floor of the super 8 46 th street
its 10 41 the next day after the band im in
play a concert in a nice venue here called irving plaza
we have la hood join us, patricia hood
the greatest rocknroll harpist pluckin those heavenly strings
get your ass to s.f. if you wanna see her
cos thatll be yer last chance
shes a consummate performer
shes armenian, she coulda looked like that
and played like that 2000 years ago
you know what i mean fans
a timelessly talented strange little woman
and
she ironed my pants n sewed em up before the shows
patti thank you n see you in s.f.
(i noted your mistakes n yer pay will be deducted accordingly)
outside my window some hideously grinding machine
burrows into something
and it feels like getting a filling
big deal new york
with all yer this n fuckin’ that
you got no peace
i d rather a peaceful grove and the whisper of leaves
than all yer discount starbucked calvin klein art gallery
limousine boutique baloney
the noise pervades n permeates everywhere
the poor bastards who are working those hellish machines
strapped all day to fume belchin’ shudderin’ monster
this world has gone so wrong
so wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong
yesterdays events with the aeroplanes…
ah what fucking madness is this
which god ordered that?
who will this show?
sadness
hopelessness
inexorable hatred flowering from idiot misunderstanding
what about the innocents?
the children?
are we less than animals?
anyway
(deep breath)
(listen to the machines nevets, theyll cheer ya up)
im in new york
its ok
i dont care
im leaving soon for sellersville
unknown quantity
the others attended last nite aftershow party
nevets, why did you eschew that party
you know why, muse, that party is anathema to me
but nevets, its new york…
muse, i cannot insult you with the idle chatter n drunken bawling
i did my gig n i exited quietly
let others slap their backs n scream thru the booze n smoke
into their egos
let em laugh n drink n be mary for all i care
i walk the lonely streets of ny searching for my hotel
i go in a late nite deli n buy chocolate soy milk
oh nevets you wild olde rocker
mock me not o my muse this is my style
what do i care for the talk of men
i seek the heart n the depth of things
i seek the measure
i seek the real behind the facade
not mask after mask
veneer on veneer
then tell them nevets
tell them how you played your songs
tell them of the words that appear in your head
how your fingers pluck away autonomously
how the great weight of the bass becomes a feather
how you heat up and sweat gallons as the songs eventuate
tell them how the audience blurs
and your eyes fill with sweat but you dont care
and tell them how you drink red bull n jagermeister
to stop n go at the same time
and how you remember all those words
no you dont remember them do you
they unravel in my mouth, muse
you should know darling muse you put them all there for me
and my muse shall i tell them of the anaesthetic place
i go when the drums throb n the c ymbals crassh
and how i leave the room and leave this earth
and my only connexion is tim powles tic tic tic
on the hi hat
and how the piano notes open up memories that i fall into
how the guitars get into my ears n mouth
how my own bass registers low low down
so deep the notes pull me into the earth again
and how i opened my throat and my voice came sailing out
and i sounded just like…….me!
and i was happy to let it float around in that room
in the reverb n echo n delay n chorus
and the slurs n stops n mute palm ostinato
the slides the emphases the hammers the restraints
n pattis harp twinkling away in the stratosphere
a million miles from the elastic pulse of the bass
and i sing my fucking songs
about life
sweet sweet life
how strange this life is
this life we all be leading
YES
right now
you guys in the office
you kindergarten mums
you olde friends
you hungover wretches
you junk craving lords
you mixing it up engineeers
you sweet ladies with yer mysterious places
you ugly olde bastards with yer blubbery bellies
you darling kids who can still see the elementals
(aurora n evie)
you mountain climbers n window washers
you public savants n idiot winds
all of ya!
yer alive!!
sweet sweet life baby
love yer life
love other people
love yer enemies…yeah theres a trip
forgive people
theyre just human
be kind to animals
dont eat any meat under any circumstances whatsoever
you wanna know how i can strap onna bass n runnaround
a hot stage n drive 8 hours at 5 in the morning
and still get up at 7 and say
what the fuck is happening
and type out a blogg that deserves the ignoble prize
for littyrature
you wanna know where the words n music n energy comes from?
FROM NOT EATING MEAT!!!!!!!
you ready for it
you wanna vibrate higher?
you wanna transcend?
you wanna knock off songs in yer sleep?
dont eat meat
new york stinks of the cooking meat
ah you poor decadent fools
itsa gonna kill ya baby
its dead
do you ever look at something dead and think
mmm i wanna play around with that?
anyway
you carnivorous vultures…back to n.y.
it was nigh on solde out
we were slick n smooth
we gave em it with both accoustic barrels
and we blue those mothers away
we are one of the best rocknroll combos ever
to strum an f maj 7
im gonna piss off now
do some something
have a tepid weak shower
wash last nites charisma off my aching flesh
look my self in the mirror
nevets, are you man or myth?
this morning, muse
this morning…
im just a washed up olde rocker
in a skinny hotel
the maids a bangin at the door
“please you musta check out”
frippy n eno drone in the corner
another day
another dollar
another dollop of life
see ya in penisylvania
killer

new york city baybee
the epicentre
oh im so impressed….

last nite in falls church was great
great crowd
great venue
great food
great dane
grate fruit
we were good
they dug it
2 on cores
the fuckin lot
virginia/dc ya always good to us
after gig
we drive 6 hours to nyc
oh so tired fiendss
i knock back 2 double expressos to keep me going
but they never kick in
(until i arrive n try n get some sleeep)
whatta long monotonous drive
hardly can keep my sore n tired olde eyes open
finally arrive
staying in a poxy overpriced dogbox
on the eleventh floor
can hardly fit mah bass in the room
construction buzzing n screaming all around
no peace for the wicked
tonite the big one
irving plaza
almost sold out
theyre gonna love us
we gonna rock
yeee haaa!!
man i need some sleep
im burning with tiredness
ok its 4 in the arvo now
soundcheck 6 o clock
im gonna close my eyes for a cuppla hours
will write ya a long one from sellersville pa
(ps im 13 on charts)
love on ya
sk