Thursday, November 17, 2005

it's all downhill from here...

put my back up
back in my safe warm cage
where i can bat around
these four squares in a rage
cause i was out on a limb, on the piss and on the lam
a human fizzing babysham
but now lookwhere i am
escaped the finery of my empty golden room
into trumpton with my trumped up frumpy dames of doom
into the silver shiny streets
tasting the sweaty tang of piss and sweets of sweat
the vapour trails garnish the streets that make us wet
but not in ways you'd want to get
it's never quite like on the telly
after all it's rather smelly
and the cold
makes your bones so rusty old
you might aspire to transpire the frosty haze
but get repaid by bronchial flu for days and days
so hiding from cold i'm in this box
that's sealed to wield the mace of smouldering socks
and last night's icky stew
it's like a glue that sucks me in
no dirty stop out i'm stuck in
alone and pissed
it's come to this
round the hamster wheel
in turgid bliss
round and round without a care
the threadbare tiger paced his lair
lonelyness his only fear
but you're never alone when you've got beer

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

anger management

as beings we are flawed
but maybe awe inspiring too
the very fact that you read this
means you are probably one of the nice crew
that chew not their bile and eschew
the nasty sides of life prefering to repose in thought
self taught your ways may be fraught
by the beings who resplendently shine full of their anger
but don't raise a clamour of disdain cause anger is our name
in vain we aspire to attain the clearer view when
men who ride the anger trails prevail
just think one moment your pen primed with ink
your mind on a brink of brilliantine thought
but look we're caught in angers' management
we just get bent by it, sent through hoops and spun on loops through chemiical soup by it
we are it, it's knitted like furroughs into the burroughs of our souls
we're like big holes filed with it
ridden by it, or ridden on by those who throng to it
oh anger you're a chant sung by masses
the seething murmur riddling the idle classes
if you don't see it you need glasses
cause anger is the bliss that seals us in a kiss of fear
tears run down our collective face to be immured with it's embrace we are it
our hairy selves find wealth in it's disgrace
make a monkey face at the sky and lie and squirm with it
we get down with it it's happening bro it's like erm..
we are too in it to see it
hoping that we rise above it don't partake ignore the ache of it wearing you thin
ignore the itch of it under your skin
there's plenty throbbing in it, blob their sputum through it
bile so vile rising and burning up the midnight streets that gleam with the spit of it
be not so aloof of the youth who trample our quiet lawns into cristal nights and scarlet dawns
that fill the angel trod aisles of casualty and a and e, of e and r
we are making them daily, these young bloods and sharp blades that pervade the glades of social programming architraves
our malls no longer safe from waifs who scowl and gurn disdain to earn who want to learn us
we spurn them as life's gross dross but the more we don't give a toss the more they are us
'cause anger's like a curse which functions in reverse with unctiousness in it's incongruent unguents
dip your finge rin and rub it on the affected area
feel it's idiot grin and the world just got scarier and hairier
memory of our hairy selves, when we were elves and trolls
but now we're modern modish plastic dolls and above that
but look it courses through our veins as insane unreigned bloody horses
it fizzes like impasses and cataracts like wind across endless tracts of tundra
so full of awe and wonder
it makes you heave and chunder with the force of it
so you reject it and it's beckoning finger
it's not a place we'd like to linger, so go figure
we're just scum in it's electric hum
it's bigger than money and sweeter than honey
it's the ultimate high the smoke in the sky that we'd readily die for
buy or sell ourselves or steal for
line up and chant encore for
so deal with it, we are it.