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[ Phermones and Ivy ]

I just can't catch my breath today
the air so stale with cigarettes
almost as if it were florida
yet I am dressed for november in Toronto
Heavy air taking my breath away
taking my money from me
lost in the daily shuffle of the
London morning crowd
like phermones and ivy in the wind
pulling down over me

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[ Butch like.....Army Green ]

real butch, yeah baby
not gonna belive your sustained lie
because mine are worse or maybe better
and I cannot get over the lack of
masculinity in women
when they taunt
when they tease
when they flirt
when they please
No honey, not gonna buy the butch
configuration in army pants

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[ without conviction or red wine ]

and this is where I want to be
asleep with the wakened
the woken little ones
with souls that shine brighter than mine
I hold my tounge
as I am out of place or unwanted
resting on new topics and realizing that
red wine is all that I have eaten
since noon and its 2 am
without a hint of conviction I hold my eye
to the flame and wander back to the conversation
that I understand but I'm lost in
just want to be somewhere
anywhere at all

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[ Envy and Lust ]

I am running on red wine as sustenance
in the early morning haze
I'm all tight and walled up inside
my heresy and jealousy
my envy is getting the better
of me in these autumn days
yet my envy is all that is keeping me
sustaining me
and my circumstancial lust is causing me
to refrain from being what I am

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[ Tearing Down ]

just waiting for the sky to fall
as the clouds grow
deeper and darker
taunting me
and tainting the landscape
the haze is building
and covering me up
I wish it would just come tearing down
taking me with it
and leave my listless form alone

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[ Strange Unions]

strange marriges
strange unions
as flesh will mesh
upon the mire
what beautiful dreams may come
with mixing of flesh and colour
crossbreeding mixed races to get together
and unify the universal conscience

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[ fallen . . . . ]

falling like flower petals
falling like rain
falling like cold, oh so cold snow
falling just like last week and the week before
falling down on my brow
falling like my hopes and dreams
falling like teeth or broken fingers
falling into my depths
falling like redwine
falling into your depths
falling like beauty on an unkept and listless appearance
falling like blood into the mouth of the river
falling like stars
falling like Jupiter
falling like the burning body of a dying comet
falling to see where we are
falling out ot love with ourselves and our own listless forms
falling down again

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[ the cigarette motif of psuedo love ]

I only smoke when I'm drunk , lonely or listless
its the only thing thats not a total illusion
smoking in psuedo love
like cancer sticks and black lipstick
the heart beats faster with the touch of poison
the touch of life blowing away
the taste of decay fills the head and heart
and the body dies fot that taste that I can't stand
but a drag is only a little touch of something
that makes your heart jump
cigarettes and match sticks
burning down the coporael temple
without any trust or truth for us to decipher

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[ wolves and my shadow]

Not gonna take long to prove I'm wrong
I'm almost done anyways
so I'm tripping on the ecstasy of the written word
and speaking is like mastrubating as it forms
rhythms and patterns to please
and I wish you'd realize that I'm not really here
I'm just a dusty old vessel waiting
to be picked up or burned down
I am waiting on your tainted promiscus touch
because you have what I am missing
but not what I want
and I think its beginning to rain mystery in the den

and women are just wolves
in ponderous barbie apparel
so I am laughing at the fact that I can't act out
my suspicions on the innocent
and maybe where you have been is where you are
and maybe one day I will get back
my volitile and voluptuious shadow
the one that is sleek and burning with intention
so I can't grasp what I am offered as my hands are shaking
and I'm taking pills and puffers from vampires
that think they love me
but the real me is still hidden in the shadows
waiting for the match sticks
to come out of the closet

Wolves dancing naked in the dust
and hopeless lust of yester year
so I thought I would make this brief
but I was wrong
so I am telling you I am leaving soon
but we are too involved with
the apparations in the mirror
and all I want to do
is sing the meaning of my words
but that would give away
all my mirraculous splendor
and without my magick my dear wolf
I am nothing

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[ if my house comes down ]

and I am so pent up with excitement and emotion
that a scream is comming and forming over me
it is making me write it all down cause
I am afraid I will miss something
and everything is just pouring out
and dearest godd/goddess
I think I am starting to come apart at the seems
so I can't weep or cry from my body
but my hands are shaking
and making me write it out of my system
and I simply pray it works
because I don't want to be around here
if my house comes down

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[ Volition or Violin ]

Hunting for the water that will purify me
and maybe make me whole
I've stopped thinking about writting
and just started doing it
its a reflex action now
picking up the bucket
thats full of me
without an interlude from Betthoven or Bach
and touching down without my volition or violin

_________________________________________
� Bryan McLean 2000-2

excerpts from harsh mandolin _________________________________________