The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

the truth had come early for mr curtis jericho

earlier than the earliest worm he thought liquidly

nobody really knows who theyre fucking with

nobody really knows how far to the next knight

yeah i should have dotted my queues and crossed my eyes

i should have read the fine prince i should have listened to my fingers

idiots and philistines and oafs and buffoons

these are a few of my favourite nongs

you are what you eat

you eat dead meat

what are you?

harpies and hags and bimbos and bags so what?

my bass guitar doesnt weep it fucking sobs

my beard rocks more than all the hair in metaldom

my calves feed in the holy valley on the freshest sweetest honeys

my songs sung in the olden times by loki and by set

my words found in the ether that some alien forget

my sorrow that i cant explain but neither do regret

my arcane discoveries linking strangest points

my preposterous prophecies which all none true

i have studied things in more detail but always on a blurry slant

thats what wrong said curtis jericho in the middle of his rant

the women in my universe do not listen to the men

the men look at the women and they see a hen

they tried to change old jericho they tried to blow me down

a moon bitch with her stud dog in the boxers dressing gown

that girl in wales who married me in swansea in a trance

she vanished in a slight pause in the swooning wedding dance

the virgin slut of winter who fell right through the ice

she said the cold was rather soothing and it felt quite nice

that stupid one who fell apart by being so together

smoking whitest widow and sometime purple heather

i’d turned back into me again and said goodbye for ever

curtis my boy i said to myself

you look pale around the gills

your fins are bent and steer you wrong

here take your moody pills

a whole episode of your life goes by

a whole new chapter for a book you can never hack out

my story can never be told in words

i tell it in the songs that i sing

no jericho says a voice in a room

a room in a skull in a tomb in a rack

i ran all the way says a voice made of dust

heaven is full and theyre sending em back

no..!

go jericho says a voice in the east

the east of the sun and a beast in the sack

here is your candy here is your wine

here is three points but only one line

the devil of good

the evil divine

i  tempt you with crime then i give you the fine

i dont dream of a world where everythings right

i dream of a world full of lust every night

i dream of a world full of women and drugs

absent of days absent of thugs

absent of anything but pleasure in flesh

god i the spark that slips through the mesh

god i the wilderness as david doth kneel

god i the presence of clandestine feel

inside every moment inside every seed

inside every fix inside every feed

a superior lake madder than a hatter

my intelligence out there and picking up chatter

matter is blind my mind isnt matter

but mind over matter well that is a mother

the mother is farther away to the child

in sparta they left me to die in the wild

in athens i looked like a prick in my armour

in venus wings they say  i’d be quite the bird charmer

in atlantis my chambers my harem my beauties

what a shame to go down with all of them cuties

in fucking lemuria on my conjugal pontoon

that stretched out my pleasure through warm afternoon

as lovely sea creatures swam the lagoon

but holidays end and life is too soon

back to some january back to some june

back to some may may make you immune

yes said a scientist interpreting runes

the vikings were covering one of your tunes

thats impossible curtis said

how could that be?

i dont let the people sing them for free

you already been paid ! said the ham in the rolls

we collected your royalties from the mongols and poles

your czechs in the mail their kings of yore wore

a hole full of water…? well……youre a bore

and frankly dear jericho love is a whore

a crooked old hooker a right hook to the jaw

i could go on all night if perchance you dream more

no shut up i said ‘fore i saw through the floor

the accomplice is willing to tell what she saw

that night under paris on top of a moor

they took away everything and gave you what for

and just like this planet with its hot moulting core

and just like  reality i open a door

i go into a darkness the dead dread in awe

an orwellian vortex a kafkaesque purge

i exist in a place where love and hate merge

on your hardest shoulder

on your softest verge

with every whisper of eternity deleted

and every threat and all vows completed

with horses snorting and riders unseated

the lion fucking roared and the fucking lamb bleated

your flame is all frozen your arctic too heated

i hope i am there when your punishments meted

out in the deserts and voids you have fated

and all of the waiting and all of the waited

waiter he said my bread has been baited

just listen he said…so we all concentrated

but all that i heard was my birds sleeping breath

the seconds all ticking a way to my death

christ on the right side

satan the left

her asteroid moons and her treble cleft

her seasons of famine that left her bereft

her reasons for things  i could never detect

and so curtis said what will be just will be

and

i’m outta here

just dont  trust kilbey

 

 

the end

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

seriously what did you expect……?

maybe it was them alien implants in my back

maybe it was all them damn drugs and parties

maybe it was because of england and australia

maybe it was because of sgt peppers

maybe it was because of the idiots out there everywhere

maybe it was because my dad could play the piano

maybe it was because i just knew some things

maybe it was because of things i just could never know

maybe it was the vegetarianism

maybe it was the decade of smack and ruin

maybe it was all the daughters

maybe it was the 2 sets of twins

maybe it was destiny or luck or are they the same

maybe it was all the songs i wrote

maybe it was the disappointments and the dishonesty

maybe it was because i got more than i deserved

maybe it was because i never got what was coming to me

maybe it was because of the trauma to me ears

maybe it was the evil in us all

maybe it was the arrogance and the big mouth

maybe it was the narcissism and the indolence

maybe it was all the flights everywhere and back

maybe it was the aria awards and the new york arrest

maybe it was my charity work or the kick in the balls

maybe it was my  florid lyrics and stupid voice

maybe it was my intrepid intelligence unknown to itself

maybe it was the venues empty and full

maybe it was the nights alone though with company

maybe it was ploogy or maybe it was grant

maybe it was sweden oh i loved it so much

maybe it was bolan and the way that he lost it

maybe it was krsna who makes it sublime

maybe it was jesus walking there with me

maybe it was the devil who lets me have fun

maybe it was the money or maybe the scenery

maybe baby

you could have been the one

 

 

i am in love with englands blue skies and her fair children

i ramble her meadows and woods alone or attended by distant angels

my ash staff charged by my art coiled about its latent power like an adder

with certain lenses the glimpses tomorrow has ill afforded

yes i am in communication with them

in trance the universe drains into a hole in my astral skull

i am thrown to this world like a thief in eden

i walk the old paths i speak the old tongues

i sing life or death though none may hear these arcane theses

i move through hells walls a frozen shadow retaining all memory

my eyes have seen the naked kali black and winged

my hands have touched the ice that fire cannot endure

my ears have heard the power love will never abide

but soft and softer still

i made terrible mistakes i was burned within my skin

i trusted men with my head but my heart said no it should not be

falling in an out of favour

with a world maddened as it moves away from the christ

oh virgin monarch you bitter withered hag-queen of nescience

your advisors appear from orange and flanders and vanish on scaffolds and racks

the treachery of some courtesan who once fucked some duke

the unction of some priest buggered before the cross

the hypocrisy of fortune

the idiot crowd existing in the common stupor

the morbid thrill of a shark moving through the court

i leave her shores from expediency no longer the glamoured novice

of necessity my exile in black papered mirrors that reflect the thoughts of the dead

kelley and his gift twinned with insatiable wish

he was right about some things though i cannot be that mistaken

he knew the true name of gold and also its subtle sound

he knew the taste of failure manifested in a sour phlegm

he fashioned the stains of seraphim into a seeming spell

and i dreaming fell under its night

and it fell upon me

and so i bid my albion farewell on samhain eve

and i walk the forests of some illyria disconsolate

and invisible

 

the moon in transit van morrison escapes the orbit club in miami france

brave headed the swan i was to become

my axe which have serveth me fine and lonely-sharp

the sentinel upon yonder hill has fed all day on chlorophyl

this great charge of mind persuades almost everyone sooner

a solar contusion exfoliated star space has peeled back

we stand on the inner threshold to choose or reject deleria

voices may be heard filled with sweet temptations

oh who could resist those promises

mozart maybe can still save me oh boy i bet hes glad i’m not bach

i pretend im not deaf  a homeless soldier for tune for hire

i wander in 18th century austria in my bondi board shorts

you fucking freak says liszt all them groupies are mine

hang on hang on boys says billy debussy theres enough public domain for all of us

hes right says strindberg smoking a big hit of angelfruit

hey youre no composer… ! says jean paul sartre in his silly accent

watch your step frenchie…bellows big dick wagner the german opera geezer

guys guys guys im saying help me here

i’m doing this thing called rocknroll its from the frickin’ future…

ah…the future….says ludde beethoven sadly

get with it man ! says  a voice  its marc chagall calling in on his blackberry

the graininess on the photo makes it look like some dusky florence in arabia

my image thus captured i make myself sick on white and honeycomb

stay tuned

or follow my adventures via spirit telegram

 

 

sunday morning coming down down down

the human race in absurd reduction

the coffee the newspapers the fucking eggs n bacon

the sight seers the home makers the heart breakers

the elevators the escalators

where the fuck do ya think youd be without all this stuff?

cars roar round the corner radios blaring doof doof doof

i got my intranet i got my x-phone i got my implants

i got my reverse gated community i got my syndrome i got my bias

i got my stringless attachment and my wireless hooks

i got my blah blah blah and my such n such

my head is aching because my brain is too big

swollen up like a sponge i suck in 21st century

nail me up with your bad reviews

exonerate me with thy kindest words

buy my records

i dont understand anymore what they were supposed to be

i walk in the shadow of changes

i come in the absence of saviour

i exist as some kinda temporary ….

my life is this dream

and youre dreaming along

dont wake up too soon

dont sleep too long

 

 

 

that stupid fucking zephyr

with his miraculous sustain and the vibrato of a hemi moor

down with constantine drinking hemlock cups

a scene from an early work in black and in white

man he could play

ma’am he could lay

he could lay his hands on the neck of an old idol

summoning rock before christ

the good samaritan well his whispered words are morphine

the angel of mercy with her tattoo of the moon

the herald of doom laughing all the way to the future

the frenzied monks and the bleeding freaks

i represent the fallen and the weak

my stash is a legend my hotel on drums

and they stage armageddon and no bastard comes

and the technical requirements are a mike and a ray

and the dimensions irrelevant its always today

hey kids remember how samson brought the house down

i saw apollo slay the crowd in detroit

zephyr with his velvet hair

concealed amidst the budding groves

t’was spring my lady as the flowers mingled with the ashes

the graveyard over looking the sea so silent but you were alone

wonder if i’ll be waiting for you as they hammer up my house in heaven

zorro the foxy spanish lover and his dreaming sword

byrd fleming who flew to the sun

icarus crook with his synch and his hook

the gentlest touch will  take us all there

oh lordy numb like a number one hit

this babylon stuff why its cut with some shit

this desert before you is the realer mirage

this morning the ache of the evening before

the revolving cosmos was trapped in my skull

a weird little mannikin appeared through a curtain

dressed all in finery from some rococo antiquity

an angry little fucker and possessor of a few nasty spells

magic is whatever you lack at that moment

magic is asking a favour of nature

magic is coming back from the living

baby have me over your ziggurat more often

you know i will meet you by the pool of eternal remembrance

where the reflections of the slain are black in its depths

and the virgins who drowned were eaten by sea snakes

zephyr took a gig and traded memory for speed

oh man he came tumbling out of his olympian summer

yeah i love the naked maenads but their kisses are bitter

oh jesus resurrected with divine electricity

oh son of man see your song linger on and on

oh they killed you for nothing

no one could understand

you were just a cool cat in a wrong time n land

the guys in the group are leaderless tonight

the audiences of apothecaries and alchemists to see how its done

the grim brothers lost in their own arthur rackham forest

the castle where the disgusting monster sleeps chained

the king of ethiopia speaks such perfect crocodile

the maestro of transformers (such an irony) frozen in flux

a grotesque little goblin fallen into money

still his nose is a pigs and his voice is an asses

his headlock on luck is draining my spine

3 sisters appear in frame left untitled

their names neatly printed in fading blurred ink

jezebel the eldest with the black eyes of a zebra

maria the second mother of lambs

and finally joanie who got her own ark

and the animal men went in two by two

the goat and the bear and the ox and the boar

all of these stories and much more

at the time being these days

who knows whats in store …..

 

 

 

 

vestiges of the dawn world remain

the continents rise and fall

the seas change colour and saltiness

humans grow bigger

man grows smaller

the earth intercepts the suns warmth

the moon in shadow surrounded by blue

the birds settle down for the evening

thrush towards brook

lark towards sky

the weather is coldly warm

the buildings drift overnight

the flotilla of clouds races away

where the moss and broken bricks are

and the flowery weeds and rusted tins

the hopes the disappointments

the unending nagging voices

one to lead you astray

the other to make sure you stay that way

 

 

instant fervent glorious baptism in white wasteland

the musicians have all passed out

the cards all undealt

the beers in the fridge

slosh it all down

go unto the night as a child would

the notes in the songs correspond to stars

eight flames in eastern dark

the minstrel crashes into the audience

i sing the songs of the dead

the real and the imaginary

i sing the songs written by waiters and housewives

i arrange the cobwebs and the dew

i orchestrate the floral dominions where mission fainted in joy

mustardseed and poppy

indica into rose into swollen purple headed evening clouds

my music falling down around me like glowing ashes

we pack up our lutes in our utes and usually some disputed flute

i sit at a red table with a silver fork

women of whitest flesh and blackest clothes

peppermint and lavender then

mandrake rooted in mansuit

henbane beltane

morgoth black christ angel in conflicto delicto

the sides collide i ride along on my song

this song lifts me up

this song lets me down

this song never sing in this part of town

my planets arrive

each one orbiting a guitar fixture

aliens abound man in my deepest spine

an abyss of cosmic secret darkness

one day you will plummet it i am so sure

until then the hum of the stars

and the searing loss of time elapsed