posted on March 21, 2008 at 7:57 pm

strange gloomy weather falls down on sydney
me n my little woofle go out early
for walky talky
i dress the woofle in the doodles clothes
and she looks pretty good considering shes 2
and theyre 8
we go outside she says cold
she says wind
little consolation of my olde age :
darling little woofle
wont you take a walk with me
(little woofle take a walk with me)
cmon woofle think how happy baby
we could be
(little woofle if you walked with me)….
this family has a lot of songs we sing
about doing everyday things
(usually written by moi…of course)
we have
tell me who
(who who who)
who is yer favourite doodle
(who who who who)
who is yer favourite doodle
(who who who who)
who is yer doodle now
wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wah
oh do you like that little starr?
(i love to drive her in my car)
oh do you like that biggle childe?
(well her charms just drive me wild)
please tell me who….

both the woofle song n the fave doodle song
set to bona fide great 50s chord progressions
and catchy melodies that stick in your head
the family all joins in (including twillies if theyre here)
singing backing vox, taking turns with lead vox
of course then theres
the gotta have doodles song
which is a frank sinatra-y affair
you gotta have….doodles
you gotta have….doodles
cos doodles
are oodles
of fun
(fingersnap, fingersnap)
(the yeah! whispered by the woofle like a real jazz cat)
we’re walking down street singing the woofle song
woofle n i grokking north bond-eyes incredible profusion of flowers
i need look no further than this
for evidence of god
(evidence of god…the idea is ludicrous)
here are pure white frangis
here are some with lovely lemon yellow tinges
here are some practically the most delicate pink you ever saw
here are hibiscus flowers with various subtle n gaudy hues
cactii with bulging pink n purple flowers
passionfruit tree flowers
the weeds all flower too
and the elephant ears ferns n boston ferns n money trees
i think of going n visiting michael h
who is as lovely a bloke as you could meet
but it is good friday before 11
then there he is walking down the street
larger than life
he must be a nice guy cos the woofle
leans outta my arms
to plant a big wet woofley kiss
on his stubbly face
im driving over to teepees
to work on new chrch album
on the way there
i visit my friend
who doesnt seem to wake up
as i sit holding his hand
oh he was in a deep restful place
and of course
i did not resent him his near absence
he was in a much nicer room today
some scented candles were burning
and brian enos music for airports tinkled almost silently
i talk to him about eno
about dylan n harrison
who my friend reminds me of
i talk to him about what i believe
sometimes he gently squeezes my hand n moves
ever so slightly
when i leave
and the next of his many friends n family come in
he opens his eye a little
gives me a sleepy grin for a miilisecond
i cant stop thinking about him
i meet his mum n dad who are the loveliest people
i go out into the rain n wind
i walk across a park in darlinghurst
im crying my heart out
and i need to have a piss
i just walk up to tree
and stand there
in the middle of sydney
peeing and weeping
no one around at all
so no indecent exposure charges yet
on the otherhand it hasnt made my career take off
a la bill wyman n stones…
was supposed to be in paper yesterday in fridays metro section
as it was good friday
there was no metro n next friday is too late for my gig
gulp! have i fallen through the cracks again????
have a safe drive to tims
through kings cross william st
into sydney
out the otherside
over anzac bridge
(we used to call it madonnas bra)
up past rozelle
over gladesville bridge
into ryde
east ryde
i listen to brainwashed by george harrison
his last album
its a beauty too
a beautiful reading from “how to know god”
by the indian sage patanjali
segues into the last song
the soul doesnt love
the soul is love
the soul doesnt exist
it is existence, itself
then at the end of the song
george chants and the lovely indian-ish music returns
suddenly a great comfort fills me
i think of all the good people waiting on “the otherside”
grant n george
my dad
jeff buckley
maybe soon my friend
oh if only these guys will appear to show me the ropes
when i turn up in that peaceful place
anyway down i go tims drive
hes pottering round in his studio
soldering leads or whatever it is
we listen to the 4 songs so far completed with vox
the 1st is a stately piano driven progression
we have put almost choral-like voices on
frankie from dublin is guest playing guitar
and his languid flourishes stretch across the music nicely
the next track is the dumb rocker called i cant let it go
written pre-ayahuasca but eerily presentiment
oh my little saviour
on her good behaviour
all he things she gave ya
now you cant let it go
i wanna get up
i wanna get off
i wanna get out
but i cant let it go…
next up is
a dark twisted song full of winter n turmoil
weird lyrics ive written too:
the bars are all closed today lady
its a long way down to the middle of town
i’d hate to see you break your crown…
and then later im shouting
i’ll slap it out of you
i’ll slap it out of you
peter plays 2 bass guitars
im playing neil youngy stuff n piano
tims added some mellotron
its roiling n boiling stuff
the 4th track
is a sad and pretty song
tim says this is my fave but i like em all
and have listened to them with almost fresh ears
we have dinner then
which consists of four pieces of toast
2 vegemite
2 peanut butter
its all i ate all day ‘cept for a packet of crisps
then in 2 hours we do a song called pangaea
it was really cool
and im rather happy with it
but it needs loadsa work
needs mwp n pk to play on it some more
still aint heard shriek soundtrack
but tp assures me its something special
long drive home
listen to george again
home to bed
everyone sleepy
early night
today=chrch rehearsal
oh dear
i hate fucking rehearsing!

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