Last Songs. 1

Honest? It wasn’t you! 1

Futility. 2

Housewive’s Choice. 2

Reality Propaganda. 3

Talk. 4

Strife. 4

Illusion (part one?) 5

Reflection. 5

1979. 6

Backlash. 7

The Crack. 7

 

Last Songs

Doors open without a sound

An empty room where shadows abound

Tables and chairs piled high and wide

Floor bright summer green

All the children have left and gone

The voices of ghosts are now alone

Destroyed at the end of summer

Cut down without a lover

The incidents which happened now can abound

Without energy

Without voice

Without life

Without memory

All what’s ever been learnt

Papers are now burnt

Dreaded, feared and hated

A demon was once created

Now a place of refuge sought

But education has to be bought

Who would have thought?

The termination of a friendship

The conveyer belt of the dead

Sun now low in sky

Ghosts fade away and die.

 

Honest? It wasn’t you!

Mr Jones leaves home to go work

Mr Brown goes to school to use the chalk

Their wives didn’t know it was hip

They hadn’t seen their hubbies using the whip

Back behind the office desk

The company boss is the sternest

He’s the one who does the deals

He’s the one with the big wheels

‘Cos it was a present from a friend

After a meeting to seal the trend.

Cigars, drinks and cars

Pubs, saloons and bars

Blonde, brown or red

Bar, flat then bed.

Down the local bobby nick

The ordinary villain hears the click

While Jake the Fake meets Inspector

Members of the same club; Al Capone’s the director!

Whilst down the sauna his wife enjoys

The tax inspector’s tactical ploys

Now the host dj sneers at youth

For speaking their mind, for telling the truth

He gets his money from the adverts

Selling smiles to the perverts

You’re born with nothing

Now you’re just concerned with winning

Honesty where has it gone?

Corruption rules okay

All I want is my pay

Honest? Honest it wasn’t you.

 

 

Futility

 

Fields of yellow and green where rice was once seen

Dotted brown from the sun

In the air a bird swoops

Spits out noises obscene

On the land a man moves enveloped in flames

The water is warm where the women do mourn

Bamboo curtain is formed like a baby is born

On the boat they do play where you do what they say

The cards are laid and the chances set

Like jackals they laugh now only one aftermath

The air lights in red and another lies dead

One last groan and now you are alone

Face to face with a friend with a chance to mend

No recognition is seen

Just eyes of green

An expression of blank with no one to thank

The smoke filled air sweat stained hair

Businessmen mumble as the city does crumble

Last chance for a Yen in the lion’s den

Six to one is the chance, no last romance

They revolve on by now to chances to die

A glint is now seen as he remembers what’s been

And he remembers his life and a child and a wife

Then he lifted the gun….

 

Housewive’s Choice

Piercing screams ring the ears

Babies expel their tears

Cause for concern is there

Mothers run to give care

Here in the showpiece of the world the tension is uncurled

Faces are long and pale

Each one thinks they’ll fail

In a trance they make their way

To the soap-powders day after day

Inside them calls a voice

It’s the housewives daily choice.

Ten a day are caught

They’ve lost a battle that they fought

They’ve got a pathetic creature

That once wanted to be a teacher

It’s all very understandable

Because everyone is fallible

Her name then appears in print

Then she claims she’s skint

In her cries a voice

She’s made the housewives choice.

Her life now in ruins

“She’s a thief”, call the tunes

Her one and only fatal mistake

Now she lives a life a fake

So she turns to Valium

Even though she knows it’s dumb

Everyday she leads a merry dance

Waltzing to shopping in a trance

She heard the little voice

But she didn’t make her choice.

 

Reality Propaganda

I’m so confused my mind is fused

I want to get high but I don’t want to die

Drugs are bad; I know they’re bad

I don’t want to get addicted

But that’s what’s predicted

I might try a bit, but I ain’t no shit

A sniff won’t do no harm

It’s better than in the arm

I want to be high I want to fly

But I know I’ll die and then they’ll die

They say you’re a fool, but where’s the soul

I’m lost out of mind, I must be blind

The ganja is kind but I’ll end up fined

I’m in a daze; I’m ending in phase

Screaming guitars wail oh how can this fail?

The smell is scenty and there’s always plenty

Now alcohol is faster and you’re the master

My brain is a slither it’s killing my liver

This is hip man! I’m my number one fan

I’m being told what to do and I haven’t a clue

I’ll argue all night and they’ll be a fight

I’ll take a hack. Wow! Get the feedback

Hey! Put me away just to know I’m okay

This fog is closing in

Now my heart in counting

Is all this really happening?

The noise is deafening

I’m going out now, and ahead.

 

Talk

So many things to do

All to be seen through

So many things to say

All to be crammed in a day

Little things to remind

Looking out to find

Giving little words of guidance

“Do you want a dance?”

Lovers whisper sweet nothings

Words disguised by coughing

The quick seducer uses his charm

Steals the heart with love and smarm

Life histories are told

Cheap lives are sold

Young boys try but stumble

Nubile girls try but fumble

Old men end by grumbling

Old women end by mmmumbling

It’s no good a one-way conversation

What is needed is oral stimulation

Some words are spoken

But gestures are token

Do you talk with feeling?

Do you talk with meaning?

Or is it talk for talk sake

Is your talk a fake?

Is it your communication?

Or vocal castration.

 

Strife

Paint it red, paint it blue

Or give us something new

A future, a vision, a hope

A land where people can cope

To exist, to be, to try

Where no one will cry.

The iron woman yields her whip

Factories use high-tech chip

The new working class movement

The pseudo-intellectual; a front

Who think it’s fair

To bring in the Red Bear.

Give us invention

A land of salvation

A new creation

Or just masturbation

Try the positive

Take and give

Let the government stifle

And burn the rifle

Only one way out of this strife

Peace and anarchy is life.

The dream; to challenge

For our revenge

Posters proclaiming freedom

Are posted by the scum

Politicians are lying

While our heroes are dying

Babies face starvation

Youth faces depravation

Nineteen-eighties life

Our fucking strife.

 

Illusion (part one?)

I sit here and wonder what will happen

If it will occur and when

In my bed I lie awake

Asking if it was all a mistake.

I look up into the moonlight

In inspiration for my fight

My eyes close and I slip away

And float into another day.

In my dreams I run and chase

I see a vision of the place

Always the same as before

Only this time there’s something more

You stand there in the middle of the floor

But a crows surges from the door

And you disappear for a while

Then I see that same old smile

But my hands grip in fear

This obsession for more than a year

Stands before me

But I don’t like what I see

For what I had searched for

The beauty is no more

For what I once wanted in lust

I now turn away from in disgust

You were the one thing impossible

But here you are now, possible.

You were my illusion

It now seems my delusion.

I wake from my nightmare

In total despair

Of the you I saw through

I prey it wasn’t true

But tonight will tell

In my own hell.

 

Reflection

It’s dark and it’s night

It’s the middle of winter

Though I feel strangely warm

The mist is gathering in

Swirling about.

I stand here under the streetlight

Looking at a reflection

At a mirror image

Both wanting the same thing

We touch

Time stands still

In the witching hour

Gossip in the morning.

Standing here I feel strangely calm

Behind the shops, in the middle of nowhere

Your heart quickens

And in the distance strange noises come

We break away

Into the night I walk

Into the mist

Disappearing at a tangent

Briefly I look back

I see my reflection, fading

Fading, an image in the dark

I come out into the open

The lights are brighter now

Though I am still in the haze

I think of my vision

Fading away in a crowd

I realise where I am

And what I want.

 

1979

Ever felt betrayed and slayed

Like only dogs know how?

And all your heroes have failed

When they appear on your TV

And they’re selling their stories to glossy mags

And “the working class can kiss my arse”

In 79 it would be fine, standing in line.

What have we done?

What have we achieved?

The big change! Yeah I can see it now

Take a look at the charts

Top tens full of disco queens and electronic armies

In 79 it would be fine, standing in line.

So what makes you so different?

Standing in your bondage suit

That you bought from a big business

My oh so rebellious

Let’s all pose down the youth club

Fun!

The sad thing was that there were believers

I feel so old now looking back

And I must’ve been mad to think we could have won

To smash the system

Our aim

But money talks and fame is fortune

And fortune means sell-out in 79, so fine.

It must be hard to think of pain, hate or revenge

When sunning yourself in the US of A

So this charade has died

And we must look to the future

No like a fucking old hippy

It’s easy to bury your head in sand

But tomorrow’s a future and the dream

And it’s up to us to see the job through

79, so long.

 

Backlash

Smoke rises as blood pours

And you escape through your doors

Twisted screams fade and die

And you turn another blind eye

But you can’t see that it ain’t new

Only act when it happens to you

When the lorry blows up in your road

Then you’ll fucking shit your load.

Backlash! Backlash! Backlash!

Hate is given out as food

Your society has made us rude

Existing only to challenge

Spurred on by our revenge

Anger and passion with agitation

Sharpen our knives in isolation

Joys of freedom are our hope

Ask yourself can you cope?

Backlash! Houses on fire

Backlash! Truth will never tire

Backslash! We’ll try and mend

Backlash! Fight to the end

So the rebels sit alone

Gathered in bands in their home

Each one the soldier of the nation

Eager to be the hero of salvation

But it’s only a wounded few

Who tell of wars they knew

And their revolution and it’s cost

Of friends and lovers lost

Now it’s a fight

Right, left, right

Now only two

Me and you.

Backlash!

The Crack

A grain of truth in an addicted mind

A life destroyed

For a vision of heaven

That was really hell.

The old times fading

In a memory of shame

Old friends trying to break

The wall of habit

Into the distance of time.

The door is locked

And the key is forgotten

The sand has run through

The hole in your mind

Love fades and grows with time.

The cells of your soul

Float, glued to the earth

And as you are discovered

You begin to fade

“We don’t expect to see you again,”

This mass of flesh

Is heard from within

No life, now just lost particles

And as they realise

The blanket is drawn quietly over your head.

Another door opens

Your cell of torture exists no more

No longer are you asked to feel

No longer is there anything for you

Now there isn’t anything

(Unless you can see the light through the keyhole).

 

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