Happiness is lodged inside
Spike says it�s just a state of mind
A clouded mist removes the pain
Chemical reactions of the brain
happiness can provail
if not
nicotine and ale
A joyful partition moment
or slowly assembled bricks
an everlasting glue
or just a quick fix
No one thinks just why we need
the substances
the coke and weed
The life and dreams we create
must be a prison if we need escape
bloodrush
brainflush
The rag man�s sister beside him curls
opens the curtains
to a; strange new world
distorting the senses
to the world i�m blind
my flatbed castle
with loads of slanty lines
step infront of
We have our own ways
stepsto the destination
drift me away, rizzler tide
Ease my desperation
what is the object of life?
is there something we�re missing?
fuck it, let�s get wasted
bored and now are hooked
just can�t get enough
and it�s kinda cool
anything in modderation
A short I shout, one sniff
I�m prone to getting pissed!
Our momentary kicks
stiffles the pain
our chemical feelings
make
blotches in the brain
(nicotine stained vein~)
-------------------other stuff =--------
the soil in germany�s as soft as france
today �s tomorrow, in advance
I can write poems like no one else
I can pull birds like no one else
I am - no one else
No matter what talent or skill I seem blessed (posses)
They always seem to have more sucess
One sniff, then your hooked!
get to know people
Need to be myself
If you don�t accept me
then who�s the one to blame?
I can only be the one
-------------------god one
we can only speculate
stop pretending to know the answers
ah...who knows
swept tears - afraid to cry
Slowly folding tubes of beer
I
swatting at the jelly bees
Sagging melting, moving, swaying
Fudge iron - brown gunk seeps
Girders won�t withstand the heat
saggy hores of milapeeds
It is not around here
Although it�s loud it�s never clear
Slowly folding tubes of bears
Insect wings that will not tear
We believe there�s more to see
Swatting at the jelly bees
sagging exhusted trees
branching from their redwood knees
glasses
Myths exist - just in her hair
dartboard for emotional glass
feared dispised, don�t mean harris cries - he�s quite upset
Sweating strimmers - grey fears
winging
But killed the grass with his touch
Then made me
lining, racing, skipping, racing
-----
acorns on the maple leaves
slaughtering the redwood knees
bug splat tide
bugs fall down if they can fly
chirping through the acorn sand
splashing fields glide
cannot fall unless you�re high
(legless leaves will never stand)
I am not a butterfly
tickling the feather pie
horizontally across the moon
sunflower hate starts to frown
pasta falls to the ground
Sullen leaves - cough and stand
jibbering roads to the vet
Hi everyone - i wrote a psycodelic moon pie kind of something.
-----
it is currently half past three PM on Thursday the 27th February 1997. This week has been the most imature, unproductive time of the sixth form. On Monday I watched the Simpsons in the morning. Arrived at lunchtime and discussed with Leanne and Ros why they got blanked from Gary Watsons party the previous Tuesday.
In the lesson time I recieved 8.3 which concerned the media�s effects in relation to totalitarian regime. It got distinctions so I decided to celebrate by not doing any work that day. Then Mr Chapman (former tutor) and current tutor Mrs Parkes who�s perminatnly happy.
Today I had a timed essay on.
============= lionessoffcuts++++++++
Money in the distance - I�ll be alright.
In the city the drivers
Infront my eyes
are used
for money.
A stream of human waste spreding to the sea.
elaborate systems that lead to the sea.
I shis, the power
hyrocioa bomb
life is trampled on
but it helps with the economy.
We are all cells. Part of a giant killing machine. If some of the cells stop then the beast will remain the same. If everyone changed then we�d evolve into a new creature. In truth the cells are not the same. It only takes a few cigar wielding nannies at the top of the chain, the capitalist brain, to change then the rest of us Joe smucks who they don�t give a fuck about (apart from our contribution to their wallet) would be taken along on the clean wand to a magical planet where we�re free from most of this and seaguls shit buckets full of ice cr�me.
Still it�s better than communisum. That�s just fucked up! and seagulls shitting ice-creme isn�t!
A crumpled path lays behind, yet i stand strong.
n
I wish I was a psycopath
Then I�d attack French fries
Cause a riot in McDonalds
Then I�d rape mince pies
I�d make them milkshakes suffer
�
(I�d take them by surprise)
I�d befriend E-coli
He�d bend before my eyes
Give me strawberry topping
(I don�t need leg bys)
ROPEY AS FUCK BIT I CAN@T BE ASSED TO TYPE OUT
I�d make them milkshakes suffer
They�d be French fry geocide
I�m gonna kick in, Kentucky chicken
If vegemite is real
I�m gonna kick in, Kentucky chicken
Then poison some of the floorboards there
Milkfloats veins and fingertips
And swallow my shin
My shadows thin so:
I�ll make them sausages pay
French fry, french fry
Then I�ll chase parsley to the moon
(Fade out)
It has just dawned on me how
Welcome to my plagerised song
It�s should sound familier
but I�m singing it wrong
Plagerised, plagerised song
I didn�t write this bit
I didn�t write this bit
I didn�t write this bit
Plagerised song
I�m taking the credit
I�m taking the credit
I�m taking the credit
Plagerised song
I�m saying I wrote it but I�m pulling your leg
It�s really written by some bloke called Jeff
His lawyers gonna call
His lawyers gonna call
His lawyers gonna call
Claim the profit
but
It�s gonna earn fuck all
It�s gonna earn fuck all
It�s gonna earn fuck all
cos Jeff song�s are shit!
I didn�t write it, blame someone else!(Jeff)
This is sooo shit!
It just had to be posted on here it�s that bad. It took under five minutes - I dunno maybe ten and it�s awful. So bad you have to look at it.
Punch that Smurf (by Jeff!)
Lost turf
Weighing on the brain of Alan Titchmarsh
scribbling dusty words
There�s no verse anyhow
so punch that smurf
Wheelbarrow nightshades
Robins like a herse
Life aint going anywhere
But me, I have two words
In the morning goldrush
from the darkened tide
I wish Alan Titchmarsh�s brain
was dumped in sloppy grime
no pressure
no expectations
me life is getting worse
cos it aint going anywhere
Punch thAT smurf!
Punch that smurf
he probably deseves it
Punch that smurf
steal that sodding hat
wipe that smile right off his face
with a big red cloth
Alan Titchmarsh scratches his nose
a piano falls on his bike
so punch that smurf!
Punch that smurf
Kick him in the head
Time is over
Lies are void
(I just put the last two lines in to confuse people. Perhaps they arn�t exactly required!)
bake me a nice cake
I�m sorry, I don�t know how