The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

madness futility
no utility
in the margin
chargin’ up my i-god
the chemistry which takes me to heaven
rebounds me to hell o i’m back again
reborn as this dragonfly-man
cast from some operetta
unbound prometheus
time carves me into this shape
the random currents of flux
ready to let go
come and take it
spirit come and take me now
my eyes hurt in the cold electric light
reality has set in it has congealed
the room is warm
i glow dull red
my sins screaming after me
they demand my anxiety
i cough up my brains
i visit the houses of the dead mornings
no you dont wanna be me
no you dont wanna be you
no you cannae do what ya like
but no you never do what you must do
i give up
i surrender
things are going well
money comes in
money goes out
figures move on a screen
i withdraw n i lose interest
i divide the indivisible
in this red lit room surrounded by my junk
my dirty washing
my dirty magic
i am many men
and capable of many more
i fascinate myself as a reptile fascinates a mouse
with repulsion i recoil as see myself go by
my voice oozes from some empty factory
where mindless auto-mons construct random phrases
my youth has fled n run off with my old face
wreck less with a band on
fuck charlie can slap you about
i look like a lobster in my movies
none of you can imagine
ooh my eyes hurt and ache
the world becoming dimmer
the sound blurs into a roar or a silent ring
people return to the moon
the first world war has been averted
the meek shall inherit the earth
the strong shall inherit the meek AND the earth
steve kilbey shall inherit a new body and name
but my will to create will endure forever
iao iao ao ao io io
lo and beholder and beauty in yer fucken eye
the great god pan is dead
the people from the oldest times
from fair atlantis
from teaming lemuria
from fragile lyonesse
from greeces golden flowering summer of love and war
the hindu goddess unleashes kundalini
you know who i mean
all of us in it together
all from a single flash we come
all from a single point
all from the glow of gods heart
look let all the people from the olden times remember
we will all live again
again
it is promised
blessing or curse
oh i want something so bad
something no one can afford
no service
no connection
no availability
read my column
dig my garden
feed my machine
i am the time being
one of the very best
one of the very worsted
rarely medium

written by grant mc
music co produced with rpk and mh

back home
thank you
safe flight
obviously
left pondering
many things
many moments
many songs
saw the sights
took the trip
sunny san diego to rainy virginia
saw the skrapers and the trailers
saw the lovely audience
saw the sun come up when i couldnae sleep
saw the moon go down tho i couldnt stay awake
i shook peoples hands
i cuddled the wives and kids
i talked but my eyes were always elsewhere
the next town
the next life
i couldnt grab on to it
i’m moving too fast now
i cant slow down ever again it seems
life doth truly speed up
all my songs are coming true
my daughters have all grown
my wife is still beautiful
my rented little house sits here in its street
the tour is a memory
already i think of something else
i say goodbye to pete at airport
he hadda fly on to qld
we travel together but we dont say that much
when you known a geeza going on 40 years
you dont have to say much
petes pretty self satisfied
he reads listens to music
occasional wry observation
weather here a deliriously beautiful day
about 20 degrees c
anyway
more revelations as they come to hand
now some yoga
i guess
sk

atlanta comes n goes
as i knew it must
the tour is over
peter n i are at lax airport
our flight back to aust leaves in a few hours
atlanta was good
great crowd
the band ever so slightly “under”
tired or weary or just getting old
jeffrey cain gives me new music for isidore at gig
someone steals some money off tiare backstage
jw n moksha from the hu dosties
griffo n anthony collins
keith n dee
kip n jill from austin
holly kiabgoa eek
virginia n christian
whole bunch of good people
this morning i realize everyone in our hotel
was there for the church last night
families with kids
blokes n guys …more doctors n teachers
guys from alabama n mississippi
they all love the church
they all grew up on the church
very touching
i feel sad to leave the lovely south
but i gotta get home now n recover
not enough sleep too much travel
too much rocknroll
too much alcohol…boy dont it knock ya round
thanks to all who brought me jazz
including jonny hollywood
thanks for gifts n foodstuffs etc etc
i love my fans
i am devoted to my fans
i will keep on keeping on
as long as you wanna hear it
sad to leave the u.s. in spring
sad to leave all your lovely vibes n good wishes
fuck it went by quick
fuck it went by slow
thanks tim powles for driving us round safely
ok
im gonna go n wander about the airport
see you on the otherside
i hope
steve-0

2nd last night in charlotte
small theatre underpopulated
but ones who there about 200
they lovely-ish
very kind very nice very fair
someone with a strange cartoon voice briefly interrupts my dream
i fall asleep midsong
my fingers my throat carries on
my songs linger in the stormy air
why didja write em sighs the southern breeze
the elms and the pines
lovely broad avenues
the untamed southern spring is busting out all over
truly some promised land but promised by who
whoever it was i can understand why
why the trees are so thick upon the hills
and the clouds race across the unfamiliar sky
and some things seem left unfinished
and nature prevails more boldly
it quickly eats up anything that lays untouched
the theatre has a complicated backstage layout underground
i keep getting lost in one room full of mirrors
after another
its time to go
i gotta pack before atlanta
our last stop
hopefully the best night
go out in a blaze of good old fashioned southern glory
coz this will soon be the end
pk n i flying out sunday from atlanta
ok
now i bid thee all fondue
steve-0

tour nearly over
tour nearly done
boy we hadda good time
boy we had some fun
we gone from the west to the east
playing a song offa each
even back with 2 beast
now in the south
heading towards atlanta
2 more shows
2 more blows
2 more throws
2 nite its charlotte
gonna rock a little
gonna roll some more
them folks go crazy when los church hits the floor
(wanna some more , senor?)
yeah we ease on down the frickin’ road
past the fields past the “yield”s
past the levees past the stevies
past the factories
past the shops and the malls
past niagra fuckin falls
past flashing signs n bouncing balls
i weary i teary i strap on my guitar n my career-y
i sing i blada bling
i do my little dance routine
cant remember where i been
i grizzled sozzled pickled tickled bickering snickering
i shout move groove pluck sometimes i really suck
i getting old i getting cold
i getting hard to keep hold
i do a mah yoga
jus’ like i fuckin’ told ya
call me slim
call me Him
call me bright n bloody dim
call me weird with my kingly little beard
yeah babe you aint met me before
yeah man well my axe is at the door
yeah steve i bet yer throat is sore
yeah steve n i cant believe yer sleeve contains even more
the sun is shining down in the south
i let the beams bounce round my mouth
i let the dreams mine the deepest seam
it seems my dreams are on beam
it seems we live
it seems we die
it seems all i think is i i i
greedy little bastard i am
i want my jelly n my jam
i wanna save the little lamb, ma’am
i wanna eat pure
i wanna take the cure
hell i aint got time to be demur
killer go killer go killer go
you pushing fifty six
you pushing against the establishment bricks
(the pick of all the uptight pricks)
you drive on thru the american nite
starbucks
caffeine
water
5 daughter
freckles
thin fine hair
red underwear
sculpted calves bisected in halves
troubadour media-whore banging down some fuckin’ door
not going gently…i still aint ever ridden in a fuckin bentley
yeah i a contra diction
yeah i fact AND fiction
nearly sixty i got more poke than most folk
i can tell a good joke
i am an approachable bloke
i got my allies
i got my axis
i got my fiction i got my faxes
i got sunshine i got rain
heard you comin’ back again
2 more shows
2 more close
2 more reap what ya sows
i sing the body corporate
i sing the words that you forgot
i sing your life
i sing your childhood
i sing your death
i sing with belated breath
i sing on the moor
i sing out there on the flaw
i sing for the poor
i sing because i cant do any fucking more
i love you all
all my lovely little fans scampering about
this great wide world make me wanna shout
ok
see ya in carolina
nothing could be finer
except when the sun n moon do a sixty niner
or having all the tea in china
see ya
killer

been hard to post lately
what with bad internet
long journeys
general malaise and tiredness
am at the moment in a hotel by a brown dirty river
somewhere in new jersey
i believe i jut saw tony soup-rano
and pauly down there with shovels
its a bit depressing
the sun shines but its still kinda cold
the traffic endlessly roars n pours up n down the bridges
all our shows have been well received no doubt about it
the strange venues affect things
the one in mass not right for us…not on that night
nyc was sold out i
we played well the crowd liked it
last night in long island was great if a little underpopulated
the theatre was perfect for us in many ways
but all the attention is on ya
as opposed to nyc where people are drinking n talking n eating
all these different style gigs inculcate a different kinda show
how could it be otherwise…?
i get affected by venues
i played in some incredible venues
(yeah foxboro was great venue)
and i played in some empty icy mausoleums
and some overpacked sweaty holes-in-the-wall
and some posh brasserie and some dirty garage
seen em all i guess
tonite is a really nice place sellersville in pennsylvania
just the right size for us
i believe ticket sales have been healthy there
the drive is about 3 hours i suppose
will fill you in
love
sk