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It's A Very Deep Sea
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I'll keep on diving
til I reach the ends,
dredging up the past to drive me round the bends,
what is it in me that I can't forget
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I keep finding so much that I now regret.
But no, on I go down into the depths
turning things over that are better left
dredging up the past that has gone for good
trying to polish up what is rotting wood.
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Something inside takes me down again
diving not for goblets but tin cans
dredging up the past for reasons so rife
passing bits of wrecks that once passed for life.
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But I'll keep on diving till I drown the sea,
of things not worth, even mentioning
perhaps I'll come to the surface and come to my senses
but it's a very deep sea around my own devizes.
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Diving, diving.
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The Story Of Someone's Shoe
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It's either -
Something in their eyes or something in the drink
But whatever it is they both stop and think
There's no going back and nothing above
It's lust or loneliness - but never love.
She takes a breath as he takes his keys
First name terms is the extent of it
there's no getting out as they're going in
But by tomorrow they both will begin
To regret and renege on a bond they have struck
A small price to pay and casual luck
Some lose nothing - some lose a lot
But whatever we have is all we have got.
He takes her hand and leads to the room
In half light and silence for their clothes to remove
There's doubt in her mind but hope in her heart
That this last one of many may be the start.
So they wriggle and writhe for an hour or two
But time has no place when two are consumed.
They moan and they gasp but they don't really speak
As no conversation could fit this scene.
And tomorrow as always, always comes
As she slips away - he still dumb
He felt the urge just as she felt the need
Now the need to get out, still carrying his seed,
Which trickles down her leg and onto her shoe
Onto the pavement and then out of view
Into the gutter and down into a drain
Joining a river and there to remain -
There's no going back and there's nothing above
It's lust and loneliness that drives us along
It's lust and loneliness - but it's seldom love.
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Changing Of The Guard
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Changes of clothes
and summer showers
Like changing the guard it only lasts for hours,
Wondering what and where did it go
Crying over nothing worth crying for
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Once in a while - I still think about,
The smile on your face girl, the first time around,
I'm wondering what and who your doing it with
Crying over nothing - worth crying for, still -
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Just now and then - I still get it,
That same old feeling, I can't forget it
Wondering why and where did I go
Trying not to let myself - need you so
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Changes of mind - I
have my doubts
I'm sure I was right but I'm not sure now,
Wondering why and where did I go
Trying not to let them get to me so -
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Once in a while I just can't help it
It's that same old feeling and how I regret it,
Wondering why - I miss you so,
Crying over nothing worth it all
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Baby please, if there's a chance,
Let's throw out the past and get something back,
I'm wondering why - did we part at all
Crying over nothing worth crying for,
Crying over nothing worth crying for,
Crying over nothing worth crying for.
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The Gardener Of Eden
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True I was a
gardener, once upon a time.
When the world was young and all the earth was mine
Mine to tend to, to plough and to sow.
Before mankind came and rendered all things low.
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And beauty was it's first name by this I would call.
And ready the harvest for one and for all.
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The orchards and the
wheatfields which could of fed the world,
Were divided up like money and sold through human slaves
The rivers fresh, the hillsides that had no need of name,
Now ran red with the life blood and drunk with guilty shame.
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The gentle bough was
broken and twisted out of shape,
And who knows the consequences when the bough doth break,
The mother soil which reared it's young, now reared her angry head,
And rain fell down like teardrops upon the flower beds.
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The blame for this I'm in no doubt, is mine and mine alone,
But so proud was I of my work, I had to share it's growth -
'Tis true I was a gardener in the time before the flood,
Now these green fingers of mine - are stained by angels blood.
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Life At The Top Peoples Health
Farm
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Dads gone down the dog track, Engels'
laying cables
Brothers with his student friends plotting in the stables
They're preparing for power and how to win
I'm covered in Solaire and preparing to swim
"Old Iron! Old Iron!" - I heard the bobby shout
As he brought his friendly truncheon down with
with a God Almighty clout.
Mothers playing bingo, she's hoping for a big win
She buys the daily papers to see how 10% live
My cousins' greatest wish, is to one day buy a farm
And turn it into a health club with top people charm
"Any evening, any day" - I'm singing to myself
I'll pack up all my clothes and dough and piss off somewhere else.
My ol' man was a dust person until he got the shove
Now the iron heel he talked about is backed by the iron glove
Brothers bought new glasses, shaped like Leon Trotsky's
They look very nice on the mantlepiece, next to the Royal family
I'm laying back with the radio on, in time to hear the Archer's
An everyday tale of country folk mixed up in prostitution.
Like all good stories with a happy end, which I'll now give to you
Our cousins wish was granted and so his dream came true
His gas shares doubled, while his telecoms soared
Til he had enough money, to chair his own board
And thank you Margaret Thatcher, "may you never come to harm"
He now serves cocktails and lettuce at a Top Peoples Health Club Farm.
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Why I Went Missing
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I don't know why, I went missing
It could have been the call of night
It could have been a change of mind.
I don't know why, I went missing
And though lost I found myself
Where I had been all the time.
When the clock chimes I shall be gone
But judge not the action but what went wrong
I'm no saint but I'm no sinner
That's one of the reasons why, I went missing.
Took me off to somewhere nice
a night at half bored in paradise.
There's plenty more I could have kissed
And those who wanted it - I could of resist
But I blamed myself for this out of town kissing
I made up an excuse of why I went missing.
But truth as in fiction is sometimes strained
And love and contradiction have a part to play
I once blamed myself now I blame you
Why I went missing is a fictional truth.
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How She Threw It All Away
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Of all the things that money
can buy
freedoms never cheap
But all the things she needed in life - she had no need to keep.
Of all the things she asked of me
none were ever fun
And I'm no good at acting while - the cameras on the run.
Don't you know - she threw it all away
I wonder how she feels today.
She threw it all away
I wonder if she's there to stay.
I tried, a bit, to change into - something that I'm not
But trying to mould with dynamite is like giving lions spots.
Guess you knew - she threw it all away
Don't shed a tear there's no need to cry.
She threw it all away
I played both parts in the fool and I.
Yes, I know your hurting inside
but I can't stop those tears in your eyes, falling from your face
Everytime you fall apart
I knew at the start - when it happened again
it was the start of the end for us.
With all the things that money can buy you'll never be alone
But thankfully you remembered the words to I "Can't Buy Me Love".
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Iwasadoledadstoyboy
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There's better ways of making cash
Than waiting in parks and selling your arse.
But I'm on the move and about to stay,
Always old in a very young way.
I'm a fool to myself when I think now,
I believed in the why but didn't know how.
And now I don't fit with no place to go,
Only down in a comical show.
All of the promises and all the dreams,
Couldn't put humpty back on his feet.
All the queens horses and all the queens guards,
Couldn't put money back in the yards.
There's better ways of losing your pride,
Than waiting in queues for a cheque at a time.
But I've been taught that it's me whose the ponce,
And I can only act as I've been taught to respond.
But there's better ways to make ends meet,
Than shuffling through life dead on your feet.
But here we are and there they stay,
With their very small handouts in a very big way.
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Confessions 1, 2 And 3
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Confessions 1, 2 & 3 - Count me
off
but don't count me down,
Down to what you wanted of me
Now I know - I could not be,
Confessions of the fool of dreams
As I once - once took the blame
Now I just laugh and sing
That it's all - all in the game.
You once my judge - once my jury too
One is too much - once I realised you.
Confessions of a peeping Tom
Watching life - take its clothes off,
Stripped for all the world to see
At the time - I could not see!
Confessions that I'll now proceed
Written down - for me and you.
So make sure you understand
and don't sign what isn't true.
Take it away - get your lawyer involved
Take it to court in accordance with love!
Sometimes full - mostly empty within.
But check this out - I won't get there again
Confessions 1, 2 & 3 - count them off
but don't count me in,
In on what you thought it was
and you know - whatever that was,
Confessions that will now proceed
Written down - for me and you,
So don't tell me that you won't sign
What you know - know is the truth.
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Confessions Of A Pop-Group
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Cheap and tacky
bullshit land
told when to sit don't know where you stand
too busy recreating the past
to live in the future.
Poor relations to Uncle Sam - bears no relation to the country man
too busy being someone else to be who you really are.
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Shitty plastic
prefab town
mind where you walk when the sun goes down
too busy hating others to even love your own.
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Bobbies on the beat
again - beating blacks for blues again.
It's one way to get involved in the community.
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Love me, love my
jeans
I must buy shares in Heinz baked beans
too busy buying up, selling out, selling off.
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3,2,1, in others
terms - win a life sentence and a queen mum perm
the individuals that state, in a state of siege.
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Do pop and press and
mix, do tits and news stew
The next one in the poor house could be you
to busy saying "thank you" to say what for?
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No time to spare -
"spare me a dime"?
the Great Depression is organized crime
Their confessions are written in your blood.
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Kiss your ass an'
dreams goodbye
come back when you've learnt to cry
to busy try'na be strong to see how weak you are.
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Wave your flags and
waive your fate
the freedom you claim is the one you hate
the victory you seek will never come.
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Brutal views through
brutal eyes
see no future, hear no lies
speak no truth to me or the people I love.
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When I grow up I
want to be
all the things you've never been
and your opinion will count for none.
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