valdaree valdarah man

i love to go a’wandering

the aether always beckoning

in darkness and solitude a white hot night

sitting here sweating it out in moonburn

all of that led up to this

every fucking struggle left me here in quiet black humidity

my summer smashes me about

at mina wylies the snails glow silver under the sea

a black bird with a snakelike neck shoots beneath me

jellyfish suspended in the cosmos of the pool

will my burdens be washed away in this holy cold water..?

my kitchen feels like africa with its sultriness and fruit flies

the bathroom is a dull fawn colour in the dim light

what else can i do except type type type..?

the cream living room walls like the 1950s

a calico drop protects the carpet from the flakes of the pastels

chintzy curtains are still; there is no breeze whatsoever

the heat is full of desire and disgust

typically i am fascinated and repulsed by it

i feel like sponge picking up on all of sydneys sins

in furtive deals i am blown shot fucked and murdered

i crash cars drunkenly laughing as i go down

some womans husband beats me up but it was years ago

nursing a black eye and broken arm i stole a yacht

which sank in the harbour as i leapt to safety on a handy gangplank

playing cards with the boys the deck is marked the game is rigged

a stripper has turned up with the stuff and is waiting in reception

the lies i wrote down and sent out to my people

i invented a god who was angry with everybody except my little stupid crowd

we went around in the suburbs burning the witches and the promoters

as i sit here alone and still i hear the shrill cry of the gulls

i am some englishman transplanted

my thin freckled skin admits everything

i perceive the brief reprieve of evil against love

i should know good but i’m no good at should

i pick up the villains guffaw before it is deplored

the candy and cash i keep for the inevitable crash

a roll of green hundreds gets me everything else

a roll of khaki fifties to pay for the taxis and sundries

my horse comes in somewhere a hundred to one

i put my hand through a thousand doors and jimmy the latch

stolen guitars untraceable through my fence

i poach protected species and fly to asia

i do jobs and i go on sprees and take part in capers

i make the headlines in the papers

its all floating out there

and the conduits are pulling stuff in

then i go for a spin in my new red jam jar

ha ha!