is everyone sleeping
sleeping on a sunny afternoon
lazy sunday afternoon
got no time for worry
type my blogge n drift away
sunday afternoons fiendss
nothing could be better or worse
sunday afternoon has a way
of calling a spade a spade
(in spades)
sunday afternoon can be light n bubbly
like a glass of champers
or it can be cold n gloomy
like a hangover
sunday afternoon i know ya!
all the sunday drives with my family
yeah thats when dad ‘d come into his own
drivin’ along , cracking jokes
singing n whistling
commenting on the “geezers” on the street
“look at his bleedin’ barnet, slim…”
(look at his hair)
“youre not bloody havin’ yer hair like that geezer!”
up until i was sixteen
my dad didnae want me havin’ long hair
“if it aint cut tonite , i’ll hold ya down n do it meself”
he’d say half joking
then he bought these comet combs
they were one of the first tv market campaigns we ever saw
and the giant food chopper which could chop thru a boot..
youd see someone getting a really groovy hair cut with comet comb
but uh oh
when yer dad used it on you
it took great hunks n chunks out of the sides n back
leaving you wandering round bully high
with the other comet comb laughing stock-outcasts
whose parents had recently mutilated their hair dos
then
one day
when i was lookin like prince valiant
i was about 16
my dad just looked at my hair
he said
“i thought i told ya to get that bloody lot off…!”
dad its not even long, you should see roger caputnicks..
“he aint my bloody son….”
gee these conversations seemed to follow a course
like a river in its bed
but this time my dad just said
if you want to bloody look like that
you bloody well can….
and
that was it with the long hair bit
i bet these days hippy pairents are beggin their boys
to grow it long and not the spiky n product look
how times change
my dad was slightly miffed when i dyed it red however
he just didnt get david bowie at all
nor did my auntie lu lu
“he’s sick” she said
when i showed her the middle foldout in aladdin sane
trying times for the oldies what with glam rock n bisexuality
jesus tho
what a lot of olde toffee it seems now
the moment marc bolan 1st donned a glitter jacket
is when i stopped liking him
i dont like glitter
or tinsel
or stuff thats sposed to fix up something drab
but in those days it seemed almost de rigeur
i was still slapping on the olde eyeliner in 1984
olde glamours die hard
i see mr gary glitta himself is doing time in thailand
for general deviancy n disgustin behaviour
he was always a lewd olde fruit even when he first appeared
i never even knew it was a wig he was wearing!
how naive am i?
the funny thing with yer glam rock was seeing macho brutes
donning blue eyeshadow n lippy
over the topp of grizzled features n lantern jaws
bolan looked so much better without the makeup
it never suited him
he went from being a tree spirit
to a ninny with some glittery stars stuck on his dial
overnite
the sweet were not so sweet either
check this lyric out
you cant push willy where willy wont go (!?)
of course chin n chapman wrote that for em
the same pair of guys wrote for
suzi quadroped
the mudd
the sweat
oh a whole bunch of idiots
they churned this glam bubblegum stuff out
like max martin does over in sweden nowadays
knocking out hits for everyone
gee i wish i could do that
i’d be hard at work right now if i could
writing a power ballad
called
a stitch in time ( saves nine)
i’d get wretchie samborer to play guitar on it
i’d have the huge muscly guy playing that wild sax in the vid
id have some really cool dance routines too
and someone holding up wads of money with a clock round his neck
and i’d have a girl rampaging thru her “x”s house smashing up stuff
(in slow mo we see the fish tank explode..
guppies suspended momentarily in the air)
i’d have some homies who are down with it
some boys with the chronic who get jiggy w/ it
i’d have some beautiful girls with artificially enhanced bosoms
hangin’ around as if that was jus’ the way it always was
i’d have jokey bits that made me seem human n wacky
i’d have risque lyrics bleeped out
i’d have tim burton direct it or gus van santaclaws
i’m gonna get the guy whos job it was was to make that lady
in heart look thin
while she was actually getting bigger every moment
im gonna get him to put the squeeze on me
give me the full vaseline lens treatment
soft lighting
blurry focus
computer out my beard n wrinkles
i’m gonna find gary glittas olde wig
(or is it in jail with him)
i’ll get a butt double if they tell me too
im gonna scmooze n network too
this idea is solid gold easy action
“a stitch in time saves nine
and then i shalt bee thine
many hands make light work
and every cloud has a….silver lining…!”
its poetry, pure poetry
aurora is painting one of those cardboard drink take away things
its her weird hobby
as soon as ya bring one home shes painting it
evies sittin’ there in her damp rashie
i say take that damp rashie off eve
she says ok ok i’ll take my damn rashie off…!
tomorrow is a holiday
things are very quiet on the backstreets here
a few tarted up old rich bitches in jewellree n gas guzzlahs
a few lunatics muttering to their bag of bags
a few skateboarding layabouts…put em in the army
cars with families looking for a car park…good luck folks!
pigeons gulls n mynahs
sunsinking behind city
harbour bridge in stark relief against golden blaze
ooh its so quiet
has everyone gone to the moon?