what a long life
who was it?
who was leading that life?
it was you
it was you
can you believe it?
refresh me please
well there was running up the hall with the milk of magnesia
running away from my mum?
yeah running up the hall
still in england then, wasnt it?
my boy you were all of 2 years old
i can see my mum …oh shes so young and pretty
shes pretty angry though
yeah i broke the bottle of milk of magnesia…it smashed
good for you!
yeah it was vile stuff..all the babies after ww2 prob’ly drank it
what else do you see?
i see my memory is not stored sequentially
oh no no no
i dip in and bizarre moments leak out
quite a life you led there kiddo…
yeah the cities and the crowds
the peaceful scandanavian lakes
oh yes you loved those swedish lakes
the silence
the blackwater tasting of rust
the swans
the kyrkogard where karins grandparents are resting
the rocks which loom from the water
the red houses
you spent much time at that lake
with the twillies when they were small
wending our way through the leaves
the days seemed to go on n on
night, it never came?
eventually after thousands of years
we sit outside and eat our meals
i rush off to an airport
where was i going?
where were you going?
oh i dunno…off somewhere
london?
coulda been
new york or minneapolis?
prob’ly
back to sydney?
maybe it was that
there you are at the airport again
standing in a line
are those tears in your eyes?
are you kidding me?
well….
look i had sore eyes ok…from swimming in the lake
which lake…smiths lake?
oh smiths lake
i see your mother again
yeah shes out walking cain our german shepherd
wow hes a lovely dog
do you remember that day
yeah
you look in your 30s
well i was…mum was angry with me tho’
whys that?
it was the bloody dogs fault
oh sure
the dog loved to chase stones that you bowled along the road
he’d run alongside and pick em up in his mouth wouldnt he?
yeah but he kept chipping his teeth n stuff
and mum warned me not to do it anymore
but you did, didnt you?
yeah that bloody dog made me do it
he made me?
yeah he knew he wasnt meant to do it anymore..
but as soon as you got outta eyeshot
i started bowling the rocks
and cain started snapping at them
yeah i bowled a big one
and it was bouncing along erratically
the dog snapping at it…
when suddenly…
it bounces up n smashes him in his big bloody mouth
it wasnt serious..
but he was bleeding like the clappers
we both go home to mum
with tails between our legs
mum says : i thought i told you not to throw stones steven?
gee you hate being told off dont you?
yeah…i cant seem to handle a good dressing down
yet you were always the naughtiest boy in your class
boy genius or ill-behaved brat?
a little old man cut down
cheeky little sod
always in fights with other boys
john florent knocked me tooth loose
did you ever win?
sometimes…i’d pin em down with me knees n slap their faces
we moved to shepparton in victoria for a year
i played hard days night last night…brought it all back
you joined an archery club
i saw my first fog
we picked mushrooms in silent foggy mornings in the fields
dad gave a public address to the school
and a fridge
but you werent good at music at school
no i hated all those quavers n crotchets n do re me palaver
whats that gotta do with music?
i dunno
did you ever try n play your dads piano?
i was ‘opeless
it sounded bleeding awful
howcome dad could play it but not me…?
the ladies liked it when your dad played the piano
yes that was not lost on me either
ooh he could tinkle them fucking ivories, slim
yeah…i still cant though
just didnt have what it took to play the bloody joanna, did ya?
no i never learnt french prop’ly neither
and you cant ride a surfboard
or play backgammon
not interested in soccer?
i fuckin’ hate it!
do you hate england?
long silence
i said do you hate england?
of course i dont!
but….
but ….i’m just confused
are you an englishman or what?
it depends whose asking
to who do you owe an allegiance?
no bastard…cept my family n my friends
australia?
its nice here
are you australian?
its nice here
are you too australian for england
and too english for australia?
something like that, i spose
you fell through the sodding cracks, olde son
too cocky!
too big mouthed!
too smart!
too mediocre!
hey!
too fussy too podgy too old!
just not good enough!
that little idiot sutherland
he fucking ragged everything after the blurred crusade
and you read his pathetic review of heyday…
and i clenched me fuckin’ fists
what diddy say?
he said that ‘appy ‘unting ground sounded like
“felt stumbling through a big country rehearsal”
big country that scottish band?
yeah! i fuckin’ ‘ated em!
then when starfish went big in the states…
they rang me up said melody maker in england were gonna
do a cover story on us
they took the photos n everything
we did 2 sell out nights at the fillmore in san fran
the trippers in san fran loved us, man
and guess who they send over to interview ya
sutherland?
yeah!
knock knock at door
there stands a pathetic little prick!
yep …you mean this little wimp dictates whose hip n whose not?
apparently
you hate journos do ya?
when they gimme bad reviews i do…
so what happens?
sutherland cant believe ive read all his bad reviews…
and i bet you could quote em verbatim?
uh huh
and i start fuckin’ threatening him
and did he argue back
no he cowered away…he didnt have no balls whatsoever
and you had yer say?
yeah long n loud!
did he print it?
not a fuckin’ word?
no cover pic?
nope!
nothin’?
nothin’
he just pulled the plug
yep
you blew it!
yep
my chance to be famous in england
blown by your big mouth and rampant ego!
yeah!
ha ha!
yeah
no regrets?
no
sure
i reckon hes still behind the scenes somewhere ruining it for me
yeah him n matt snow…
too bad
gotta have some excuse…
we cant all be bloody coldplay
exactly
still…
technique
posted on May 31, 2008 at 11:35 pm
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