posted on June 18, 2009 at 6:29 pm

i am the killer
the killer in me is the killer in you
i sing the body electrique because very few of us can
my life is complicated
my gig is complicated
try playing the bass to pangaea and singing at the same time
i am an ambassador
a showman
a shaman
a washed up olde geezer from the frickin’ 80s
by my own stupidity i became hooked on fame n drugs
by my own solid endeavours
i stand before you now
rejuvenated metamorphed into some new thing
i travel across america
we play portland…oh what a lovely place
we play seattle…superb…in everyway
we hit the road
we stop in anytown by the side of a highway
we check in at 4 in the morning
we check out at 10
and then we drive
in vans
in a nother big van pulling a trailer that dont go so fast
when we get to seattle
we see the numbers cant add up for us doing kc with a 2.30 load in
leaving immediately after denver show..
if we had a coach n dedicated driver
we coulda jumped on coach
slept all the way to kc
did gig
blah blah blah
chicago a day after…another impossible drive
after allready swerving about on roads being half asleep
i dont wanna do it
we cant
we cant die so that we may rock
the gig coulda been anywhere
kc was just in the wrong place at the wrong time
believe me
we fought n fought with each other
we looked at planes trains hiring a coach
none of them possible without losing our asses
i wanted to come to kc cos a friend o mine
told me the venue was one of the best on the tour
i hate cancelling shows
the decision divided and racked us
anyone who doesnt believe that can personally find me
and i’ll fucking persuade him by other means if necessary
i will not be accused of this outrageous twaddle on my own pages
to the rest of you…
i am deeply sorry..specially for those who reserved planes hotels
it happened in aust when i had my seizure
other people have commented to me here
and in person about my shorts
like im gonna fucking dress up cos im in america
this is who i am
this olde weather beaten aussie in his shorts
the guy who writes the best lyrics of their type in the world
the 54 year old who can heft a fender bass bawl his lungs out
and run around for 2 n half hours while hardly missing a stroke
the mofo who got off heroin n can swim 2 miles or walk a hundred leagues
i see the people around me n i am fiercely proud
of my own individuality
i am a bondi beach beachcomber
my popinjay days are long dead
i dress how i fucking well like n i still look better than most of em
this is me
can you see the real me
can you bear the real me
on this tour i talk with lawyers
i talk with doctors
i talk with architects n big tycoons
i talk with mechanics and carpenters
i talk to young chicas n old grannies
i talk to educated hopped up ponces
i talk to to redneck strugglers
i am fucking everyman
on the edge of everytown
you wanna get obvious
im fucking obvious
you wanna get esoteric
i m fucking esoteric
and i tell you this
and i want to give more n more n more
and everything i fucking well have
my last blister my last sore throat my last song
i love my fans
the new ones
the old ones
the shy ones
the blustering over the top ones
i did all this for you
i had this within me
i assembled this band
i gave this to you because very few others could
there is a message in my music and this is it
in a nutshell
i wasnt raised with no silver spoon
my mum n dad are the salt of the earth british working class
i got my arse out here to play you this music
with my cohorts
the extraordinary tp mwp n pk n now even lil cw
we are the fucking bidness childe
and we care so much that we’re arguing all day to get it better
we havent had one decent chance to learn any new songs since aust tour
we run on a tight shoestring budget
we stay in ok best westerns
we drive vans
yesterday i lived on bananas n peanuts n coffee
we do it hard n tough
and nobody bitches about it
im fucking nearly 55 and i aint no spring chicken
i’ll do anything to make a gig
but i wont see people nodding off at wheels
if thats cos i aint got “balls” so be it
so many anecdotes to tell ya
but maybe another time
tonite the mile high city
yeah denver, bob
the church hope to be smokin’
ps bring me some jazz records if you gottem…

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