The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

wait up david wait up…!
i called through the foggy morning to my friend
we were in a holiday inn car park
and we were stumbling through the tempe hinterlands
and we were about to go onstage in ottawa
and we were smoking a joint in davids bedroom
we were tuning up in a caravan down the coast
david, did you ever go to australia…?
david never went there …says someone out of earshot
dave shook his head wearily..i’m here n now, aint i?
everyone laughs
its a song isnt it?
on the first solo record after he left that super group
i never liked what eric did on lowboy
but i hear he still plays it to this day:
lowboy, how low can you go boy
the stuffs out the back
but the sky has turned black
yeah you can rest yer head
now the pigs have been fed
is there anything you can still enjoy…?
i guess i should write copyright d. neil
but i cant be bothered
davids not likely to sue me
the photo of a mans face comes on the screen
its lenny weissmann
davids manager lawyer and enabler
its an old photo
jesus i didnt know weissman had so much hair…
david grins : he pulled most of it out over me
everybody laughs
the band pull into focus
they all laugh
but there is a huge emptiness contained in their mirth
aw theyre all numb says david rolling his eyes
more laughter from the band n the crew
some seedy shady lady steps out of the shadows
lenny was a good guy…he was great for david…
she looks around for a challenge but finds none
in the harsh lights she looks so old
like she smoked 1 million cigarettes n drunk 1 million whiskies
i’m marilyn savage….david wrote deadline for me
someone strums the sad chords that start the song
a descending minor pattern that never seems to lead anywhere
but suddenly merges back into the beginning imperceptibly
ah…that was davids genius says weissmann looking up from his desk
the woman takes the microphone
she wanders out onto the stage
the fiddle player n pedal steal begin to softly wail
the crowd recognize marilyn savage
everyone here probably saw that documentary
everyone saw her interviewed by johnny carson that time
when david first came to l.a.
the drums roll in
marilyns got a croaky old voice but its pleasantly in tune
shes an octave up from where dave used to sing it
never thought i’d see my name in a headline
never thought i’d get myself off of this deadline….
from this distance she doesnt look too bad
david whispers in my ear
we need some vancouver stuff says a voice down the line
cut to vancouver autumn 74
i had my twentieth in davids uncles place out in some lake
marilyn savage was there n her brother boyd
who did lights for david in the early days
god! look at the fashions
david looks kinda cool tho
somewhere between a surfer n a prince
i wish this had sound
it does have sound! says boyd savage twiddling a dial
the party fades up into real life
here we all are so young n splendid n alive
its good to be alive smirks david n the band all laugh
david n the band have a troubled relationship
too many drinks n drugs n violence
too many opinionated girlfriends says david on one old interview
i only met david a year ago in canberra
he was supposed to be at university…..
david never went to australia said weissmann
blatantly contradicting me
i think you’ll find steves memory a little uh….
marilyn savage :its true…david was never there
you can believe whoever you like
but one year later to this day in june
there i was
playing bass with david at the new genoa orpheum
sold out!
we were all so nervous
david tuned n retuned his guild 12
the one they say i stole but it was a gift, i swear
backstage we were harmony rehearsing alberta
alberta was a bit of a hit
lenny kept saying the harmonies were all wrong
alberta now you gone n made me cry
steve youre singing the wrong words man says david gentlemanlike
we sit in daves bedroom
we were trying to write this song called my secret star
david had gotten some girl pregnant
he’d shaved off his beard n cut his hair
he was using eyeliner
he had a coke habit n was experimenting with bisexuality
he ran out of money n briefly worked as a wine salesman ha ha
after the accident he married a doctor and moved to florida
yes he came n saw me play in miami in 1986
he was wanted by interpol at that stage
the so called doctor had run off in his yacht
david was barely recognizable in his sunglasses n grey hair
we decided to do davids beautiful song “normandy”
i hear he wrote it about his dad
we thought david might come on
but he never did
when the show was over
there was no sign of him
i dont stay out late much anymore he said sadly
cue the song “scarlet”
we see archival footage of davids plane taking off
unbelievable that they chartered their own plane
the plane climbs into the clear blue sky over the pacific
david sings :scarlet i cant believe my eyes
you dealt me out from your pack of lies
and baby if this is really the end
please introduce me to yer friend”
david shoots the final scene
the cocktail of drugs
lenny fires a shot
david has a blast
marilyn savage on her knees in the back of the plane
the captain says we gotta turn back
glass shatters
someone screams
someone else is shouting
i watch the screen transfixed in the darkness
david nudges me in the next seat
youll like this bit
the blood swirls into the chamber
weissmann is slapping davids face
the plane is losing altitude
the long duel guitar solo reaches its climax
a ball of flame on the horizon
becomes the rising sun
david emerging from the sea with his surfboard
we see marilyn sitting on the beach waving
young lenny weissmann with that big mop of hair
the screen goes blank
a sign comes up
the end / fin
i look for my name in the credits
nah…no mention
that would be david
in spades

there must be a tiny black line around each leaf
without this things will blur
velvet black as night
jet black as coal
the early morning rain is gentle
it alights softly upon my face like tiny cold kisses
wakes me up from my dreams
the gardens are verdant
the flowers glow in unlikely colours
birds contentedly twitter
planes up in the clouds continue to distantly roar
imagine the people sitting in the plane
they get told their breakfast options
they leave sydney far behind
they exit a story
they leave the stage
i dont want this quiet mossy morning to end
i dont want the angry boiling day breathing down my neck
with its wagging tongues and its honking horns
i want to hide in this morning
muted as it is
with no hard edges
so n so says blah blah blah
someone else got such n such
yeah really oh thats too good or bad
heres my card
credit me debit me call me stall me
peter or paul me
blow me down with a feather
my back aches
my ears ring
my eyes fade
my mind is closed for nightwork
my hand is dealt
my children awake
my my my
the palm outside my window feels the breeze with green frondy fingers
i sit in my clutter drinking pitta tea
remember the doshas?
well i’m a fiery sort so i drink things to pacify the fire
burning n returning
how i wish i was going on some holiday today
over the rainbow or that general direction
troubles melt like lemon drops
away upon the chimney tops
did david neil sing that?
i give myself 15 minutes to finish this up
if i aint cracked it then i never will
minutes de evolve into seconds
n they just fly past
the world winds harder
life speeds up
dont you know
dont you know
one minute slips into the past forever
irretrievable and gone
then another then another
my fifteen becomes thirteen
my unlucky lucky number
13 men on a dead mans chest
yo ho ho n a bottle of rum
i hit twelve panicking up a door
12 dig n delve
i am the delver if nothing else
11 aint so bad as i thought
60 seconds of mild anxiety
i await for 10 philosophically
oh there it is
it was inevitable after all
dont waste it talkin’ about it
uh…cant stop thinkin’ bout 9
when it comes my finger blurs across my dirty i-book
9 for the lily white boys dressed all in green-o
or something
is it some kinda code
predicting the end of the world 2012
or just next weeks horse race
theres 8 right on time
dead on time
hung up on a deadline
8 is straight
8 is a lot more than…
7
i gotta soft spot for 7
it was nick wards lucky number
so i guess i shouldnt bet my sausage on it
7 by 7
7 times i cursed my 7 tears
and then 6
counting down seriously when you hit six
666 the numba of the beest
ooooh scary stuff ….i’m quaking aint you
555 my dad smoked cigs called 555
5 lucky to still be alive in this hive w/ my hand-jive
four four four
what for?
why ?
all i have is questions
but i’m too impatient to hang about for the answers
cos 3 is coming
3 is hear
3 minutes to express myself
3 lousy minutes
already down to 2 n a half
2 thats low
dont tell me 2 aint low
low boy
how low can you go boy
david neil did sing that
what a lovely song
n then just as i get happy
i realise i have 1 minute
1 minute 60 seconds
i’m paralysed in indecision
i think of poor david neil
his jet falling outta the sky
the needle still in his arm
the bullet still in his chest
waiting for velvet black/jet bl……

(sound of engaged dialtone ringing on forever)

i dont want to alarm you
but i’m plummeting thru your hands
there i go
tho you do gasp n grasp
you can never seem to get a hold
i live on september the thirteenth island
its right between easter island n christmas island
fact : the sudden sunlight circulates in the seaspray
the sea spray that i see that i say is spray is missed
the sand that i planned to demand in my hand is beyond
understanding
god says every grain of sand is numbered
“hi,
if youre holding this grain of sand
it belongs to s. kilbey
some romantic beach shack
13th of september island
this grain of sand is # 57378885643
a reward will be paid for its return”
my island home
my island home
my island home
is a’waiting for me
beach comber come home now
come in from the heat
yeah i had a man friday once
boy thursday i called him
gee its thursday today
well waddiya know
i had to let him go
every damn thing on the island…
1st the volcano
2nd the crocs
3 rd the sharks
in equal 3rd the snakes
5th the spiders
6 th jellyfish
etc
he had a problem with everything you know
and i dont take to whiners or shirkers
oh yeah he could speak a crude form of english :
he was educated at lyneham high, after all
a kind of ex-strange student
a very impudent student if i may say so
after he bullied me all the way thru a double metalwork period
i still was stupid enuff to hire him tire him then fire him
jesus lyneham high
they said 16 per cent of canberras pregnancies were from lyneham high
or was that the amount of urine in dickson pool
or was that the number who ended up in jail
which we sometimes spell gaol
which suggests how very random n ridiculous things are
i did a little island-ology at school
which is lucky
cos i know how to light a cigarette
or open a bottle of beer with my former teeth
my grass skirt had weeds which hurt my legs
we had a little island set up inside a classroom
we’d dress up like the black n white minstrels
n chuck connors n shake spears
n we’d row out to the shimmering sea
and net monsters between our canoe
can you?
i doubt it …..
miss waddlespoon our teacher kept me back
n showed me
what happened when the white hot lava
hit the warm pink sea
i hid in her caves
she stood on my promontory
we stripped back the jungle around the lagoon
island-ology was looking good for me
later the deputy head
miss mountjoy
chose me to represent our school in terraforming
she took great interest in my use of basalt
my obsidian swirls were the talk of lyneham
oh how i loved my bauxite shavings
how they smiled on my molten core
but thats the real world
and here….
just a small dessert island with only 2 airports
september the 13th island
just a dot on the map of love
just a tiny
i wake in the morning
the salty air blowing round my beard
the parrots screeching in the canopy
pilate talking in the cockpit
the survivors stum-ball around in their pear-o-chutes
oh look maude…its steve kilbey
yes! welcome to my island
some of you may never go home again
(ooh i hope not…!)
please dont eat the coconuts with SK engravied on them
please dont feed the monkeys
or monkey with the feed
please avoid the mountain trail after 5 pm
as it will be closed for ambushes
please take your room key with you if you go swimming
its good for jabbing in the sharks n sea-snakes eyes
bathe near chubby children…the crocs prefer em
no fertility dancing or appeasing the sun god after 11 pm
all castaways should be out of huts by 11 pm
no sunburn no blisters no service
dont wee in our rockpools
we dont put winkles down your toilet
dont vandalise our volcano
the collection of fiery ash is strictly forbitten
caution : human sacrifice next ten miles
watch out for falling cannibals!
i am a suave olde island meister
the sun n sin king
sinking

wednesday arrives in garments of grey turning blue
i find it
i lose it
i almost overlook it
am i amongst friends ?
sometimes i wonder why i bother
sick of myself
i wait to be reabsorbed into the cosmic all
yet still i remain separate
visited jim o’bleek in his offices
the view over the wilderness
i almost thought i saw giraffes down there
he examined my case
murder? he said…..thats the easy part…..
its this poetry charge that worries me….
sure jim sure… i say
and we laugh
and we drink some silver-leaf tea
and he asks me a hundred questions
as he peruses the dusty tomes of law n lawlessness
i sit in the corner watching the wildlife
he quotes me paragraphs n clauses
oh ? i say never listening
never understanding
…you’re better off to ignore most of that…he says
ok… i say …..that shouldnt be too hard…
later
i catch the rolling starecase
the dwarves are on strike
some singer called jilly mirror has been found alive
the war drags on
some actress called joan aparte has been found missing
the weather will get worse
the commissioner has been exonerated
police have found a large cache of angelfruit
dean nigh the sky-surfer has been injured in a cloud
some foreigner got smacked about up on golgotha crest
the minister appointed his brother
the chamberlain gave himself a raise
the generals all remained safe
the poor seem to be getting poorer
wine shown to be useful for sobriety dos
famous author booked
famous singer moves out of sharp flat
freak accident : train collides with giantess
hot tip : pyromaniac in the 3rd heat
what your husband is worth ; suburb by suburb
piers de boor on extremists :burn them!
sexy ways to lose weight n goddess coupons
free full colour lift out featuring bobby des moines n di-rhonda snodgrass
aw fuck all this! i thought as i wandered thru the news
the driver in my macronetic phonotron has been punctured
and all the flanges had been splanged
i couldnt afford to see a polarist
i didnt want a malarkey suit
and fell-ons were now illegal
back to my place
the surfaces are all neo-soft
i move from room to room via mo-help
my antenna can tune in antares
a maid made a bed
i live simply nowadays
just oxygen shots n a virgin therapy
i’m smart…i use rezzi-rect-em instead of undevilled
i never switch off my kestrel strike
i go to a bar
some guy playing there
david neil
i heard of him
he fell out of a window on a bridge
he sang that song
about the guy who wakes up to find
his wife turned into a dragonfly..
i’m so tired of songs like that
arent you?

children
ive gone completely mad for you
hush now
dont complain
my purse is haemorrhaging
my chariot is wheelless
i sing a song outside the door
i walk a lonely path
lost but unable to lose myself
the words faltering
the picture wavering
the thoughts clotting in my head
gonna be hard to get out of this one
havent got the right stuff
cant see a way out
gotta keep moving tho
gotta keep breathing
roll the dice man
wheres yer double six double six double six ?
gotta get an iron in the fire
gotta get a fire in yer backbone
gotta carryon as if nothing really matters
and how can it?

wonderful spirit continue to guide me
flame on! light the lamp of love
fill my head with the sweetest words
summer for some of us
the days stretch out before me
the nights so black n inviting
knit me a mansuit i can wear
weave me my crown of weeds n reeds
coz i wander abroad in broad daylights
dazzled by the oaks thunderous voice
that reverberates underground
and i’m in league with the river
that accepts me without even a murmur
dive deep in her dark waters
lose your breath and be drowned
surfacing in another summer
golden rays call your vapour to heaven
summertime will be a love-in there
exquisite music
its…….david neil
“after that summer thats never coming a gain
my baby waiting for me
behind her frosted pane”
the angels toll the silver bells
go skinny dipping with jesus
drink sangria with rama
lie down n dream beneath the sleeping weeping willows
dream of summerpast
when you floated in bluer skies
right over the school so far below
you could hear a brass band playing in the distance
as you drifted away
into the effulgence
cos life is not solid
and we appear n disappear
and we bring to the table what we have learnt
and all stories are made up as we go along
and eventually
you must end up on your own
walking through a storm
where nothing can help you
in a black wood filled with uncertainty
then remember today today today
you are a childe
swimming in a vast sparkling sea
held up by the oceans hands
and gently surged to the sand
afternoon endless
your kind mama
your handsome father
your big sisters who tease you
becoming golden brown in the sun
becoming invisible in the warm black night
becoming yourself more and more
learn to love
learn to walk the astral path
learn to reach deep inside
and retrieve memories of summers long past
summers of boleyn
summers of iscariot
summers of ancient times that crowd your mind
the sun and the stars and the moon
the groves n the flesh n the wine
the lakes n the evenings n the dawns
your ancestors were you n me
summer is recycling us over n over
we pop up under the palms licking frosty fruits
cruising down the motel strip in a fancy car
we laughing cos we alive
at last (again)
summer deep is in the hills
jesus with his jaguar
strange birds arrive in the foggy blue
the great god pan is still king
we are golden youths in bacchus’s retinue
we crush the grape
we raise the cup
we dance with the dryads
into the nights wild depths
we are ecstatic n telepathic
we are in love with everything around us
the sacred glades come alive
and summer wraps us up
with warm sheets of air
and pillows of lovely dreams
and whispered words of welcoming
and summer is a beautiful girl bathing in a stream
and we watch her from within the woods concealed
we are rogues n ruffians n merry fools
we sleep under the stars
we eat wild raspberries and drink the dew
we ride the ceiling fans in hotelrooms by the sea
we check in to a deluxe suite
we amble down the boardwalk at rehoboth beach
shoot the curls at malibu
making friends with hawaii
summer comes in so many guises
listen to lord krishnas flute in the lemurian jungle
its all mixed up
lord krishnas flute in the holy night
mingling with the singing mermaids
far out to sea
too far out to see
a comet blazes overhead
star of bethlehem beach
for a moment everything is illuminated
then darkness returns
rendering all things equal

deer steeve
i am writing to you to say
blah blah blah
n
furthermore
rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb
i look up from the page
north bondi is dazzling in the early morning sun(day)
everything washed cleen by the rain
five daughters
2 brothers
one wife
one mother
54 years olde
13 different people living in my head
which one will betray me?
these are the ravings of a madman
last night it rained
sade is playing in my incense filled room
you give me you give me the sweetest taboo
the rain falls out there
but ive telescoped into my room
yes i am wildly intoxicated
on a potent cocktail of stuff
the room seems to fill with a fog
my eyes are wild
my pupils are like black plates
i take everything in
i look at myself in the mirror
a naked man
you can tell
by the hairs on my chinny chin chin
i made myself a sangria
one slug of red wine
one slug of triple sec
one dash of raspberry syrup
top it up with a berry v
n
voila
i slosh down my concoction
a door slams somewhere
people laughing somewhere
a painting i did of harry houdini
my clean n dirty clothes all mixed up
ants invading this house all the time
my wife is having a long shower
the children is all cuddled up
3 in one big bed
the rain : fall fall fall
the wind : blow blow blow
the wife : shower shower shower
the man in the mirror : naked naked naked
the 13 voices in my head : whisper whisper whisper
the stuff in my bloodstream : intoxicate intoxicate intoxicate
i give the ants some of my pot cookie to eat
fuck em if they cant take a joke…
but i reckon the queen’ll be sending em back for more
go on little anty
eat up yer nice sweet cookie
tonite the old nest will be jiving
they gonna be the coolest ants
meanwhile sade : there is no other love like ours
a blonde woman walks in the room
shes smiling
i must be dreaming i’m naked
or what?
this woman with an accent
a soft voice
the rain falling
its so perfect
sheet lightning illuminating the sky in flickering caresses
nothing else matters
there is nothing out there anymore
the outside
the rest of the house
the sleeping girls in the one big bed
the ants eat their cookies
staggering towards window sill
(rocker drugs ants!)
fuck i am such a childe
i love stuff like that
i aint raging at the dying of the light
if darkness comes
then i will shine on regardless
out there where im nothing
in here where i am everything
yeah i am the violinist in the subway
yeah i am the masterpiece for sale for 150 bucks
only you n i know that
most people dont like people like me most
but it makes you like me more
that i am so under appreciated n under valued
i am your little secret
i am your refuge
i am your haven
i am a washed up old bastard
i am i am i am
i did it all by myself
i taught myself everything
but i guess i shoulda got a new teacher
at fifty four i dont have anything to show
but my lovely jawline n my steely thighs
i cant help admire n detest myself at the same time
in the mirror my face is flushed
my hair is damp n dark
pushed back from my forehead
i look like a red indian
i look like a lemurian crazyman
my eyes so huge n black
i stare at myself intently
my fascination with myself…
i mean
its sick
isnt it?
stupid olde narcissus is turned into a flower
the blonde woman lays her hands on my back
her hands go right through my flesh
and soothe my olde n aching bones
my face with all its planes n angles n lines
not the face of decency or morality
jesus steeve you been living a fucking hard life, boyo
take everything to the extreme
you indulge in simply everything
i never sit eating pizza n watching the tv tho
i never come home drunk n scare me family
i never watching sport with boys
i never down the pub chatting up floozies
my face is olde now
i can still see its me
can you see the real me…can ya? can ya?
the blonde stranger in my room
i let her touch me
i cant get a fix on her
she modulates
her delicate face though
i always wanted someone like her
oh shes so pretty
shes smiling at me
dont my wild black eyes frighten her away?
my black eyes on her white skin
an inexhaustible chemistry
my brown hands on her white neck
my lips touch a spot beneath her ear
her neck n throat are unbelievably fragrant
a soft young sweetness
i am a man
is it any wonder then….?
the light glows on in the room
i watch us in the mirror
as the rain falls
and night expands into the wee small hours
and the minutes slip skip n glide
mmmmmm

so many things at once
look its all happening out there
the clouds the rain the wind the stars
me n my baby love
so much more
n so much less
i can do anything i think i can
but i cant make the horses drink the water
i just gotta let go
i thought it’d be so easy
youre just an antenna
youre just a wire
saturday i played the festival
i guess you could say i was tepidly received
i just dont knock their dicks in the dirt, do i?
my glory days are gone
im just an olde geezer with a dodgy voice
no one there wanted to hear me
i struggle on playing
but whats the point?
after the show
lady: i like the cover of utmw!
man (excitedly) painkillers playing soon!
me : yeah dec 22
man : i cant be there….
wow
unless you know who i am n what i do
you wont really dig it
as an entertainer i’m a zilcher
what am i good for
(absolutely nuthin’)
on thursday
i travelled up to see my new accountant
who is a paid up fiend n subscriber
from way back
even his skills
cannot save me from being in deep debt to the tax demons
i got a couple of big lump sums
i didnt put the dough aside for tax
bang!
theres a problem
unlike most peoples
my tax is not deducted at source
its my own fault …i dont blame anyone
at one point my accountant says ruefully
you probably think i’m a ” straight”
no no no i say
well i am he says
a “straight” with good taste in music….
nonetheless
its good to be with someone
whos got ALL yer records
i mean
if he aint in my camp…who the fuck is?
now i need a doctor n dentist n lawyer
who are fiendss reading this blogge
just think
i could get my botox shots from a quack
whos got p=a playing in the surgery
or get defended by some barrister
who thinks freaky conclusions is just dandy
or if i had a fanboy dentist
he’d know to give me a little extra laffing gas
cos i’m the fuckin’ killer
n i can handle it
when natalie was “having” scarlet
she had this gas mask on with the laughing gas on high
have a whiff of this she says offering me a wee lungful
wow!
it knocked me into the middle of next week
i thought youd like that
said my wife who was astonishingly calm n composed
all things considered
gee i wish my dentist would give me a hit like that
talking of which
i need 2 crowns
the longer i put it off
the harder it will be
any toothquacks out there
eager to drill my fangs?
any used car dealers with a cheap car for me
that wont blow up?
anyhow
david byrne is OFF
hows that?
thats fuckin’ show biz folks
next thing up
the triffids in melbourne
thats gotta be good, right?
meanwhile
its saturday nite
im gonna get wasted

nobody knows anything
i travel round this n other worlds
a free spirit but you dont get it for nothing
past weeds n stones n little bunny rabbits
i roll over bridges
i fly over lakes
i walk thru walls
i am a presence waiting for you to close your eyes
i hover in the summer darkness
i am so very patient
now
i can wait
i go where i want
in shotgun shacks at the edge of town
get yer skulls n powders here
i am black madame apollyon
i am a thousand years old today
i eat men alive
i swallow cities n towns
i lift up my skirts n darkness comes down
jus’ count yer money carefully honey
you dont wanna cheat me
i know how you died
i know how you gonna be born
i am the snake mans daughter
i am a childe of the marshes
i am the morning that never comes
i am so pretty but you never see me
i am that bird on the line
i go up n i see everything
in the deepest lake i am an eel
in the highest sky i am a cloud
in the strongest tree i am a termite
in the hardest metal i am rust
and lower yer voice
you never knows who might be listening
and close yer eyes now
n fall asleep
let yer old mama croon you away
as the train clicketty-clack clicketty-clack
past the houses with their back gardens
past the factories n general stores
past the fields where the labourers groan
past the fallen down silos
and past the sandy trails
yeah your mama sings to you
and her fingers soothe away the past
and she cradles your sweet white skull
and she gently rocks with the train
and people move past on the screen
thats me you say
no thats me
no thats me
oh mama wont you sing some more
oh yes childe
surely i will sing some more
about a devil in the deep blue sea
and about
an angel in a pit
about that little boy
who one day
woke up with a black fury sucking him off
and about the monkeys in lemuria
who were vicious n mad
and about a beautiful lady turned men into pigs
oh that aint too hard says an old ladies voice
and everyone in the carriage starts to laugh
oh mama oh mama
yes my sleepy childe?
oh mama sing me those songs about the kings
about the gold
about the boys who never grow old
oh sing me to sleep because i am so tired
but i’m shaking
and i cant tell whats wrong with me…
oh childe let my love dwarf thee
oh childe come back into the dark earth
be a part not apart
oh childe listen to my voice
the wind is my friend
he carries my words
and i talk to the night
whatever that means
and the night has a thousand eyes
and the walls can all speak
and the carpet burns
and the dawn is mourning
hush you little rascals
dont wake now
atlantis has gone down
down to the depths
with a boiling white sound
someone interrupts
hey its madame apollyon….
shut your mouth!
i’m singing my little steven asleep
my poor tired boy
all sweaty n hot
from working all day
so hard in his mind
he tried so hard to run from mother earth
but now as his day draws nigh
he turns to me and he sigh
someone in the carriage says
hallelujah!
and they all join in my mamas song
mama sings :
ashes and dust aint so bad
cmon now n dont be sad
the passengers in the carriage :
aint so bad
don’ be sad
mama sings:
tomorrow wont care whether youre there
son dont let the blues hear you fuckin’ swear
passengers in the carriage :
yeah don’ swear don’ swear
mama sings :
one door close
another one open
but maybe it wasnt
the one you been hopin’
but thats alright
its goodnight
goodnight
goodnight
passengers in carriage :
aaaahhhh goooood niiiight!

no time no time no time
splendish duffly xox
wing wang woo
a quikky
right it down bee-ling
pro cream your genie us
isnt thiz grande
tacks nailing me
its all micksed up
is this then in sanitee
the roo ins
the abs n loot pitts
bread pitt
broad pit
angel in a pit
angel of the pitts + kil-be-el-z-bub
hey bubba louie
hey my my hay
have i done enough yet
i must not write silly bloggs
i must not write silly bloggs
why not?
oh…
thats right
give my wrista wreste!