a new song

sing then o musesing of my wanderingssing of my lost yearssing of my other livessing of athene who came to me in waking dreamssing of my ship and the star who guided hersing of the cities of the plain destroyed by a jealous godsing of nineveh cold and forgottensing of enkidu dying of feversing of grant mclennan and david mccomb who sing no moresing of baby krsna with the universe in his mouthsing of houdini and the great cagliostrosing of my strangling hands and trampling feetsing of leslie kilbey 18 and in germany 1940sing of joyce bennett in the ruins of londonsing of eris and her golden apple inscribed kallistising of aegypt and her long centuries in the sunsing of saint-saens and scrubby stokessing of lemuria and lynehamsing of monsters n miragessing of mustard gas and barbed wiresing of opium sing of nepenthesing of wine sing of meadsing of loki who shudders forever until ragnaroksing of elli n minna sing of eve n aurorasing of my bass guitar sing of my lyresing of the christ up on the kings crosssing of hannibal barca and his dark troubled browsing of joan who shone like an arc where you walksing of kennedy and sing of lincoln sing of the tower of babel and the towering infernalsing of 666 and 911sing of the elusive grail and the knights templarsing of heroes and cowards and cowherds and vrindavansing of the red sea and the blue tide and the green mansing of the war of the roses and sing of the jackals of warsing of cemeteries sing of nurseriessing of solomon who sings his own songsing of lyonesse between england and francesing of the planet between earth and marssing of jagger and jesse james and john the baptistsing of marathon and sing of alexander sing […]

sing then o muse
sing of my wanderings
sing of my lost years
sing of my other lives
sing of athene who came to me in waking dreams
sing of my ship and the star who guided her
sing of the cities of the plain destroyed by a jealous god
sing of nineveh cold and forgotten
sing of enkidu dying of fever
sing of grant mclennan and david mccomb who sing no more
sing of baby krsna with the universe in his mouth
sing of houdini and the great cagliostro
sing of my strangling hands and trampling feet
sing of leslie kilbey 18 and in germany 1940
sing of joyce bennett in the ruins of london
sing of eris and her golden apple inscribed kallisti
sing of aegypt and her long centuries in the sun
sing of saint-saens and scrubby stokes
sing of lemuria and lyneham
sing of monsters n mirages
sing of mustard gas and barbed wire
sing of opium sing of nepenthe
sing of wine sing of mead
sing of loki who shudders forever until ragnarok
sing of elli n minna sing of eve n aurora
sing of my bass guitar sing of my lyre
sing of the christ up on the kings cross
sing of hannibal barca and his dark troubled brow
sing of joan who shone like an arc where you walk
sing of kennedy and sing of lincoln
sing of the tower of babel and the towering infernal
sing of 666 and 911
sing of the elusive grail and the knights templar
sing of heroes and cowards and cowherds and vrindavan
sing of the red sea and the blue tide and the green man
sing of the war of the roses and sing of the jackals of war
sing of cemeteries sing of nurseries
sing of solomon who sings his own song
sing of lyonesse between england and france
sing of the planet between earth and mars
sing of jagger and jesse james and john the baptist
sing of marathon and sing of alexander
sing of the lion headed sphinx and sing of oedipal hi jinks
sing of glenn miller sing of tom miller sing of henry miller
sing of hoaxes and hexes and executive decisions
sing of the axe and the scalpel
sing of the time and the distance
sing of narnia and sing of charn
sing of the bermuda triangle and the blackest hole
sing of mark feld and david jones
sing of erskine and sad conesuela
sing of trees sing of bach sing of amadeus in the dark
sing of jeff buckley who sang like a lark
sing of breton sing of normandy
sing of the wind singing through the longest night
sing of ern malley and sing of bin laden
sing of the mermen and sing of the mainmen
sing of the haunted
sing of the unforgiven
sing of the dead still singing for a living
sing of the animals that were butchered today
sing of the world behind my eyes
sing of sydney sing of sumeria sing of esoterica
sing of impossible things the phoenix and the roc
sing of the dark cages and sing of the rhymeless reason
sing of saturn and satan and black satin sheets
sing of murder and sing of mayhem
sing o muse
let the singing begin
sing in my veins
sing in my head
sing in my fingers
sing in my soul
sing o muse
and let your song be ever so long
unending unbending
unbelievable
undeniable
undying
undone
sing o muse
let the singing begin
then
sing it all
again n again

ulysses is granted

after a long timeafter life has moved onand the blasted shadows have faded from the pathand the children grew up and could see for themselvesand their children live in the fertile valleys surrounded by snowy peaksand the kings have departed to seek empires elsewherealong silk routes and longitudes unmapped and unchartedand new stars have appeared in the skyand new skies have dawned in mornings i wont seeand the ocean still churns restlessly at the foot of its bedand my head is cleared all bad memories deletedand i am exonerated of my sinsand my good deeds rewardedand my reward is to know everything that was unknowneverything i could stand to know that isand i stand holding my hand that god has dealt outand the four angels of the four cardinal directionsgolden haired neither male nor female come down to this planeand i count the grains of sandand i see the sparrowfalland i hear the language of the treesand i swim with the nereidsand i behold vishnu in his universal formand i walk with jesus on my kentucky blue lawnand i am soothed by venus who ceases to mournand ride with the valkyries out of this stormmy men are gone and never to returnmy snow has melted and my fire has burnedevery lesson finally learnedsome lovely day some blessed evesome wonderful springthe women singa songi cannot write but long to hearmaybe thenyou will appear

after a long time
after life has moved on
and the blasted shadows have faded from the path
and the children grew up and could see for themselves
and their children live in the fertile valleys surrounded by snowy peaks
and the kings have departed to seek empires elsewhere
along silk routes and longitudes unmapped and uncharted
and new stars have appeared in the sky
and new skies have dawned in mornings i wont see
and the ocean still churns restlessly at the foot of its bed
and my head is cleared
all bad memories deleted
and i am exonerated of my sins
and my good deeds rewarded
and my reward is to know everything that was unknown
everything i could stand to know that is
and i stand holding my hand that god has dealt out
and the four angels of the four cardinal directions
golden haired neither male nor female come down to this plane
and i count the grains of sand
and i see the sparrowfall
and i hear the language of the trees
and i swim with the nereids
and i behold vishnu in his universal form
and i walk with jesus on my kentucky blue lawn
and i am soothed by venus who ceases to mourn
and ride with the valkyries out of this storm
my men are gone and never to return
my snow has melted
and my fire has burned
every lesson finally learned
some lovely day
some blessed eve
some wonderful spring
the women sing
a song
i cannot write but long to hear
maybe then
you will appear

tori n me

tori n metake scarlet for a walki guess we’re in dakota or wyoming or somewherethe lonesome whistle blowing down the trestle: ooooeeeeits the 1950s everything all black n whiteno beatlesno internetno tiramisuno aiolino dicejohn dee in the dried out river bedplaying some old chuck berry numberand skyping his angel within the crystal ballsome gunslinger dock holidayor wild billstill holding the deadmans handamericanatoris a waitress at joes cafei just been laid off by the mining companytimes are toughmaybe this is a dreamno…maybe not…its always 3 o’clock on some fall afternoonthe clouds are ominousmy heart is heavya burnt out ford customlinea rattle snake in the dustnothing for miles n mileshorizon disappears behind the black hillswe dont say muchtori answers my questions with a shake of her heador an uh-huhshes wearing her one good dressthe one her daddy bought for her in bismarcki’m wearing my old suit patched n worn shinyi got ten bucks in my pocket that i clutch for consolationlife is harshwe always seem to be sadare you sad ? i ask hershe shakes her headare you happy here ? i ask hershe looks at the silent slag heaps and circling distant black birdsuh-huh she says so quietlyi was thinking i could get us a piano …i suggestuh-huh she saysmaybe you could learn to play i sayuh-huh she says her eyes glassy and lostwe walk back into townthe saloon has closed downand the train dont pass this way anymorei scratch my head squinting into the dull glarewhat you gonna do now ? i ask hershe shakes her head and the wind gently blows tiny whirlpools of dust down mainstreet

tori n me
take scarlet for a walk
i guess we’re in dakota or wyoming or somewhere
the lonesome whistle blowing down the trestle: ooooeeee
its the 1950s everything all black n white
no beatles
no internet
no tiramisu
no aioli
no dice
john dee in the dried out river bed
playing some old chuck berry number
and skyping his angel within the crystal ball
some gunslinger
dock holiday
or wild bill
still holding the deadmans hand
americana
toris a waitress at joes cafe
i just been laid off by the mining company
times are tough
maybe this is a dream
no…maybe not…
its always 3 o’clock on some fall afternoon
the clouds are ominous
my heart is heavy
a burnt out ford customline
a rattle snake in the dust
nothing for miles n miles
horizon disappears behind the black hills
we dont say much
tori answers my questions with a shake of her head
or an uh-huh
shes wearing her one good dress
the one her daddy bought for her in bismarck
i’m wearing my old suit patched n worn shiny
i got ten bucks in my pocket that i clutch for consolation
life is harsh
we always seem to be sad
are you sad ? i ask her
she shakes her head
are you happy here ? i ask her
she looks at the silent slag heaps and circling distant black birds
uh-huh she says so quietly
i was thinking i could get us a piano …i suggest
uh-huh she says
maybe you could learn to play i say
uh-huh she says her eyes glassy and lost
we walk back into town
the saloon has closed down
and the train dont pass this way anymore
i scratch my head squinting into the dull glare
what you gonna do now ? i ask her
she shakes her head
and the wind gently blows tiny whirlpools of dust down mainstreet

when isidore not adore

my dear friend in colleague jeffrey cain is on his way to australia arriving june 29 to start n finish isidore #2maybe you have or havent heard isidore #1 yetits a very melodic smooth kind of record jeffrey wrote the musici came up with the voxwe make a good teamjeffrey writes tricky chord progressionsat once familiar yet with a sense of the strangeit inspires me to come up with words i wouldnt normallyhave come up with…hes renting a flat here in bondi n we can ‘ave a winter swim n a saunan get stuck into our workjeffrey is an impish alabaman with a wicked laugh n kind heartlike martin kennedy and ricky maymi hes much younger than meand was inspired in his teen years by the church among othershes absorbed his sk musical lessons welland thoroughly transmuted them into his own lovely tripwe will both be mourning the loss of gregory slay isidores drummerwho died on new years eve tragically too youngmr slays radiant and mischievous spirit will illuminate proceedings i’m sure….the first isidore record heralded a new era for my singing n wordsi turned some corner in making itfinding new ways to singnew types of words to writei am lucky to have collaborateurs such as jc n these other guysso you got gb3 coming real soon (its a corker…mixed by jorden brebach too!)then kk2then hopefully i can get david neil finally fixed n mixed (thats with ricky)then isidore2 which i know will be a special recordmelbournian fiendss can look for me next weekalthough i cant necessarily spill the beans on what it is i’m doingas i am merely one of a number of special secret guests at 2 shows there(at the palais….)yep i’m pretty busyand thats how i like it great new book arrived on my deskmy immortal by […]

my dear friend in colleague
jeffrey cain is on his way to australia
arriving june 29
to start n finish isidore #2
maybe you have or havent heard isidore #1 yet
its a very melodic smooth kind of record
jeffrey wrote the music
i came up with the vox
we make a good team
jeffrey writes tricky chord progressions
at once familiar yet with a sense of the strange
it inspires me to come up with words i wouldnt normally
have come up with…
hes renting a flat here in bondi n we can ‘ave a winter swim n a sauna
n get stuck into our work
jeffrey is an impish alabaman with a wicked laugh n kind heart
like martin kennedy and ricky maymi hes much younger than me
and was inspired in his teen years by the church among others
hes absorbed his sk musical lessons well
and thoroughly transmuted them into his own lovely trip
we will both be mourning the loss of gregory slay isidores drummer
who died on new years eve tragically too young
mr slays radiant and mischievous spirit
will illuminate proceedings i’m sure….
the first isidore record heralded a new era for my singing n words
i turned some corner in making it
finding new ways to sing
new types of words to write
i am lucky to have collaborateurs such as jc n these other guys
so you got gb3 coming real soon (its a corker…mixed by jorden brebach too!)
then kk2
then hopefully i can get david neil finally fixed n mixed (thats with ricky)
then isidore2 which i know will be a special record
melbournian fiendss can look for me next week
although i cant necessarily spill the beans on what it is i’m doing
as i am merely one of a number of special secret guests at 2 shows there
(at the palais….)
yep i’m pretty busy
and thats how i like it

great new book arrived on my desk
my immortal by anakki mayhem
an australian coastal teenage vampire love story (what?)
available on amazon now

regards to dave rundle my novocastrian china plate
put the box set kk dvd and ato cheque (bastards!!) in the mail today

thats it
a long weekend here in sydney but dunno why
see ya then
sk

kilbey kennedy heads its ugly rear

today received new kk dvdnice one!the total live kk experience(in tuxedos!)featuring evil graham lee on pedal steeln michael evans-barker on drums n perchere we are live at the toff(oooh is that diamanda galah my one true fan in the front row?)old crooner me with the crows feet n scuffed up blunniesmutton kennedy the modest maestro concentrating on his gigi tell you its not a bad old vid we play our entire 1st album n give under the milfy weigh the kk treatmentplus providenceplus exclusive sneaky preview of kk2 with “the demo”speaking of witchi been listening to todayand its almost finally readymartin has again come up with some musicwhich is just so right for your old ‘umble heroto stick his rag tag grab bag of lyrical tricks on top of(oooh ended a sentence with a preposition!)the songs are a lot more eclectic than the 1st recordsome bloody good hummable tuneswith mks inimitable touchand your old groaners smooth voicewhich causes savage beasts to be soothedand old grandma groupies to faint in their wooly stockingswow! it really is a great record n i want ya to hear it right now…but ya gonna have to waitso have some patientssongs about the esoteric hodge podge and the friction when you enter this atmosphereyou gonna love itwhy bother arguing?its at least probably the best record ever madeand thats just an understatementit will enlighten you while it enlivens youthe sad songs’ll make ya happyn the slow songs’ll make ya fastkennedy is the antipodean enoand i’m the equivalent of lying in a bath of opiumwhilst reading baudelaire and shakespeare and patanjaliwith yer eyes tied behind your backdoubtless it’ll go to number one all round the worldcoz people here can appreciate our subtle brilliance(when the footballs over…of course)send me a thousand bucks now n i’ll reserve you a copy, […]

today received new kk dvd
nice one!
the total live kk experience
(in tuxedos!)
featuring evil graham lee on pedal steel
n michael evans-barker on drums n perc
here we are live at the toff
(oooh is that diamanda galah my one true fan in the front row?)
old crooner me with the crows feet n scuffed up blunnies
mutton kennedy the modest maestro concentrating on his gig
i tell you its not a bad old vid
we play our entire 1st album n
give under the milfy weigh the kk treatment
plus providence
plus exclusive sneaky preview of kk2 with “the demo”
speaking of witch
i been listening to today
and its almost finally ready
martin has again come up with some music
which is just so right for your old ‘umble hero
to stick his rag tag grab bag of lyrical tricks on top of
(oooh ended a sentence with a preposition!)
the songs are a lot more eclectic than the 1st record
some bloody good hummable tunes
with mks inimitable touch
and your old groaners smooth voice
which causes savage beasts to be soothed
and old grandma groupies to faint in their wooly stockings
wow! it really is a great record n i want ya to hear it right now…
but ya gonna have to wait
so have some patients
songs about the esoteric hodge podge
and the friction when you enter this atmosphere
you gonna love it
why bother arguing?
its at least probably the best record ever made
and thats just an understatement
it will enlighten you while it enlivens you
the sad songs’ll make ya happy
n the slow songs’ll make ya fast
kennedy is the antipodean eno
and i’m the equivalent of lying in a bath of opium
whilst reading baudelaire and shakespeare and patanjali
with yer eyes tied behind your back
doubtless it’ll go to number one all round the world
coz people here can appreciate our subtle brilliance
(when the footballs over…of course)
send me a thousand bucks now n i’ll reserve you a copy, cats
mucho love
or watt ever
kilb-0

secret history of sk

my brother russellrecommended i read this book called the secret history of the worldan esoteric trawl thru the philosophies of the secret societies that exist n have existed…to put it all in a simplistic nutshellmind before matter long before anything elsethere was the boya boy born out of time n placegrowing up in australia in the fifties n sixtiesi read alice in wonderland n alice thru the looking glasswhen i was 5 or 6 n i was gonethen the greek myths, the norse myths, the celtic mythsthen the chronicles of narnia (frequently referred to by t.s.h.o.t.w.)this was my worldthe world of spiritthe world of magicthe world of imaginationmore real to methan the humdrum ordinary onein which i never felt right or at homeanyway the narnian chronicles blew my tiny mindand a lot of the secret encoded (rosicrucian) informationwent straight thru to my heart n soul(and verily i grokked it!)i could never turn back from here on ini could never be an ordinary person happily livingin the ordinary world(cue duran duran ; no, please dont!)then came lord of the ringsgormenghastpsychedelic rockdrugs etci have read the bible the koranthe bhagavad gitaand almost got thru the 18 volume srimad bhagavatamthe hindu secret doctrine or as krsna puts it to arjunathe most confidential information i have read extensively on yogai have read buddhas the path of dharmaand many other esoteric and exoteric treatises on or by the buddhaof course as you all know too welli have been doing yoga on n off for almost 25 yearsthe last 5 years very intently n intenselyall of my study is confirmed in this bookmind before mattermind over matterall esoteric literature has to be interpretedlike poetrylike heiroglyphslike sunsetsand life and deathand astrology and alchemyyou cant solve this stuff literallyyou need some strange inclinationwhich i have in spadesfinally my […]

my brother russell
recommended i read this book called
the secret history of the world
an esoteric trawl thru the philosophies
of the secret societies that exist n have existed…
to put it all in a simplistic nutshell
mind before matter

long before anything else
there was the boy
a boy born out of time n place
growing up in australia in the fifties n sixties
i read alice in wonderland n alice thru the looking glass
when i was 5 or 6 n i was gone
then the greek myths, the norse myths, the celtic myths
then the chronicles of narnia
(frequently referred to by t.s.h.o.t.w.)
this was my world
the world of spirit
the world of magic
the world of imagination
more real to me
than the humdrum ordinary one
in which i never felt right or at home
anyway the narnian chronicles blew my tiny mind
and a lot of the secret encoded (rosicrucian) information
went straight thru to my heart n soul
(and verily i grokked it!)
i could never turn back from here on in
i could never be an ordinary person happily living
in the ordinary world
(cue duran duran ; no, please dont!)
then came lord of the rings
gormenghast
psychedelic rock
drugs etc
i have read the bible the koran
the bhagavad gita
and almost got thru the 18 volume srimad bhagavatam
the hindu secret doctrine or as krsna puts it to arjuna
the most confidential information
i have read extensively on yoga
i have read buddhas the path of dharma
and many other esoteric and exoteric treatises on or by the buddha
of course as you all know too well
i have been doing yoga on n off for almost 25 years
the last 5 years very intently n intensely
all of my study is confirmed in this book
mind before matter
mind over matter
all esoteric literature has to be interpreted
like poetry
like heiroglyphs
like sunsets
and life and death
and astrology and alchemy
you cant solve this stuff literally
you need some strange inclination
which i have in spades
finally
my own work
thirty odd years of songs packed full of esoterica
messages puzzles clues
random name dropping of things i had no real idea about
its all there for you to see
hardly any stuff about the ordinary world
i have poured my heart n soul into the surrealism of it all
my music my words my paintings n now my blogs
dedicated to the marvellous in the mundane
finding the strangeness n charm on this plane
i dont believe in jehovah i dont believe in darwinian evolution
i dont believe in a one way scientific world
i dont believe its all for nothing either
i visit a healer
who 5 hundred years ago would have been burnt at the stake
she manipulates my chakras and tells me impossible things about myself
she works away on me without touching me “as if by magic”
healing the damage i have done to myself
occasionally she chuckles :
“sometimes i cant believe i’m doing it, myself”
my life has shown me karma in action
bad things come back
good things come back
inevitability is, well, inevitable
baby baby i was born to boogie sang marco boleyn
n fuck me he sure was
i reject the plausible sensible scientific christian explanations
i embrace the weird and wonderful meanings i feel n i sense
when i write music
it all flows to me
appearing in my mind fully formed
music is magic
yoga is magic
life is magic
i dream n i yearn for the inexplicable
i devote my life n my work to its exploration
i dunno what i’m doing but i know i’m meant to do it
i heartily recommend this book by jonathan black
if you like what i do
i know you’ll love it
thanks rusty n amy
i’m thoroughly enjoying the read
abra fucking ca dabra !

a new clear power

dearly beloved and devoted readerssunday morning here in sydneyi get up do my yoga practice my chi gongthink things thruits a lovely sunny morningfull of the future

dearly beloved and devoted readers
sunday morning here in sydney
i get up do my yoga
practice my chi gong
think things thru
its a lovely sunny morning
full of the future

gone fission

see ya in a little while

see ya in a little while

elegy

this sky’s disguiserain pissing on the wild madman broken down on the other side of limboaimlessly going nowhere soondeep sadness heavy burdenfeeling olden and helpless finallyas someday we all mustgotta start my picture againtoo much hurt in thisoh i never fucking foresaw it! the roof rattlesthe window shakesi turn towards my music but its out to lunchmy paints sit there untouchedjust the fucking internet whence all trouble comestempting screaming begging me to log on againone more timegive it a shot suckerwrite the saddest most heartbreaking thing you can musterthat might just make someone stop and listenlisten to the sound of of some horrible terrible futurealmost upon usnow separated by the flimsiest luckiest chance now itself unravellingsome kid of thirteen sees some stupid singer on tv hey he seems so familiar….and the kid leans into the future and shoutsdoes it really all have to be this way?ok then this is the brave new world nowand anything goes and then everything goes wrongand then you fight wrong with wrong and you get more wrong backand no one ever learns andlong after i’m pushing up dazesthe same old idiots going thru the same old thingsquabbling over THE FUCKING DECK CHAIRS ON THE TITANIC!!!!whatever you reckoninsert yer own pointless example of futility hereall these words but none of them going thruabsent voice : you hurt me…..i’m sorryabsent voice : you hurt me goodlook i said i’m sorry!absent voice : you bastard you hurt me!look fuck it all I SAID I”M SORRYabsent voice : Dont you Shout at ME !I”M NOT SHOUTING!!!!!!!I”M NOT SHOUTING!!!!!!!!!!!???????(the actor (its roy scheider( from all that jazz)) appeals to the darkened audience AM I FUCKING SHOUTING??AM I FUCKING SHOUTING!!!???but the audience are already leaving the buildingsilently erskine turns to conesuela who shot him right between the eyeserskine : why …..conesuela […]

this sky’s disguise
rain pissing on
the wild madman broken down on the other side of limbo
aimlessly going nowhere soon
deep sadness heavy burden
feeling olden and helpless finally
as someday we all must
gotta start my picture again
too much hurt in this
oh i never fucking foresaw it!

the roof rattles
the window shakes
i turn towards my music but its out to lunch
my paints sit there untouched
just the fucking internet whence all trouble comes
tempting screaming begging me to log on again
one more time
give it a shot sucker
write the saddest most heartbreaking thing you can muster
that might just make someone stop and listen
listen to the sound of of some horrible terrible future
almost upon us
now separated by the flimsiest luckiest chance now itself unravelling
some kid of thirteen sees some stupid singer on tv
hey he seems so familiar….
and the kid leans into the future and shouts
does it really all have to be this way?
ok then this is the brave new world now
and anything goes and then everything goes wrong
and then you fight wrong with wrong and you get more wrong back
and no one ever learns and
long after i’m pushing up dazes
the same old idiots going thru the same old thing
squabbling over THE FUCKING DECK CHAIRS ON THE TITANIC!!!!
whatever you reckon
insert yer own pointless example of futility here
all these words but none of them going thru
absent voice : you hurt me…..
i’m sorry
absent voice : you hurt me good
look i said i’m sorry!
absent voice : you bastard you hurt me!
look fuck it all I SAID I”M SORRY
absent voice : Dont you Shout at ME !
I”M NOT SHOUTING!!!!!!!
I”M NOT SHOUTING!!!!!!!!!!!???????
(the actor (its roy scheider( from all that jazz))
appeals to the darkened audience
AM I FUCKING SHOUTING??
AM I FUCKING SHOUTING!!!???
but the audience are already leaving the building
silently
erskine turns to conesuela who shot him right between the eyes
erskine : why …..
conesuela : i didnt think the gun was so loaded…
and the people in the cinema say
aw fuck! is this the bloody ending
and they want their money back
and erskine wants his money back too
but boo hoo hes fucked whichever way he turns
he tries to be understanding but this magician has
no control over his temper trap
his magic seems awfully thin
his eyes are quite unmesmerizing
fuck! he says
and ya gotta laugh
and ya gotta cry
and you gotta wonder why
and you gotta get over it and get by
made your bed
you oughta lie
a nice long sleepy sleep
you wake up
n yer outta prison n outta hospital n outta the rain
and outta the cold and outta the hurt
and outta the poison
that clear almost tasteless colourless poison
going straight for mens hearts
like a liquid spear
killing everyone at once

reboot

everything i thought i knew about myself is wrongmoney flies out of my bank accountmoney evaporates as it sits in the drawermoney taken by the spiritsi am not cleani am grimya dirty fighter who always loses in the endsomething so fundamentally wrong with my picturesome instrument in my orchestra can never get in tunesome unseen error in my calculus fucks up the answeryou never saw someone so closeso fucking close to thisso fucking close to thatbut in the end…..what?a 2 byte singer knocking out 4th form poetry in a place wheres theres no school magazines anymoreweak and feeble and docile and grubbyi can do some yoga pose but inside im inflexible and snap….look at me whinging on the internet i guess you arelisten to me rave on about my inadequaciesmy false modestytoo late to be fucking humble matei can sling a sentence togetheri’m a real smart alec sanderi’m a clown at a funerala spare prostitute at a pricks weddingi couldnt go a round in a revolving doornow youre confusedwho are you sticking up for ….me?you know deep down i am a ratbagyou almost like it when it suits youa clever little ratbag but a ratbag nonethelessflagellating my straps moaning down easy streetas i squander the $ i made from some useless behemothstill with enough energy and time to discount my blessings thore read the liner notes to the soundtrack of yer lives thenhave another look at the finite printcop another highcop another lowa new lowa whole brand new lowhow low can ya go?i still dunno


everything i thought i knew about myself is wrong
money flies out of my bank account
money evaporates as it sits in the drawer
money taken by the spirits
i am not clean
i am grimy
a dirty fighter who always loses in the end
something so fundamentally wrong with my picture
some instrument in my orchestra can never get in tune
some unseen error in my calculus fucks up the answer
you never saw someone so close
so fucking close to this
so fucking close to that
but in the end…..what?
a 2 byte singer
knocking out 4th form poetry
in a place wheres theres no school magazines anymore
weak and feeble and docile and grubby
i can do some yoga pose but inside im inflexible and snap….
look at me whinging on the internet
i guess you are
listen to me rave on about my inadequacies
my false modesty
too late to be fucking humble mate
i can sling a sentence together
i’m a real smart alec sander
i’m a clown at a funeral
a spare prostitute at a pricks wedding
i couldnt go a round in a revolving door
now youre confused
who are you sticking up for ….me?
you know deep down i am a ratbag
you almost like it when it suits you
a clever little ratbag but a ratbag nonetheless
flagellating my straps moaning down easy street
as i squander the $ i made from some useless behemoth
still with enough energy and time to discount my blessings tho
re read the liner notes to the soundtrack of yer lives then
have another look at the finite print
cop another high
cop another low
a new low
a whole brand new low
how low can ya go?
i still dunno

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