CRAWLING IN THE GUTTER
WE ALL WORSHIP SHIT
LIKE IT�S GOLD SENT FROM HEAVEN
SOMEONE FALLS
SOMEONE COMES INTO A ROOM
A HOUSE OF DARK MEANING
SOME OUTER SPACE WAY
OF EXPLAINING A BAD DAY
I HATE THESE BIG BLACK WALLS
I TURN PAGES
IN A VAIN HOPE OF DELIVERANCE
FINALLY TURN A NEW LEAF
IT�S SUCKED UP BY THE WIND
BORN INTO DEATH
IMMEDIATE SEDUCTION OR
IMMEDIATE DESTRUCTION
WHAT?
A STORM
OF CANDY FLOSS POLITICIANS
SQUIRMING IN
A VAT OF TOFFEE APPLE SHIT
ROLLERCOASTER RIDES
OF HURT AND BETRAYAL
DYING IN
A POOL OF NOTHING ANYMORE
DRAIN OFF
THIS VITAMIN DEFICIENCY
MEANING I
STEAL FROM OTHER SOURCES
THE REALISATION
REALISES THAT IT�S ALL SHIT
SOMEONE BREAKING
A BIG FUCKING MIRROR
THE DARKNESS OF NOTHINGNESS
MEANS SOMETHING TO THE BLIND
THEY SEARCH LIKE URCHINS
IN A RIVER OF REALITY
SUCH PITY IS RESERVED FOR THE BRAVE
WITH THEIR BELIEF OF EACH OTHER
IN A WORLD OF A
MILLION STRANGE VOICES
FORGET ALL THIS REMEMBRANCE
WHICH SWIMS IN AND OUT OF REALITY
IT�S A BALL SPINNING
INTO AN UNCONCEIVABLE ORBIT
AND HOPE IS NOT A HAPPY THING
THE EMOTION IS READY TO DIE
A DISTANT LONGING, A LAST BREATH,
THE PATHETIC DROWNING OF WORDS
TWISTING ROUND IN CIRCLES
LIKE IT�LL DO ME ANY GOOD
STAINED, UNSHAVEN,
HEAD TURNED UPWARDS FOREVER,
TRYING TO SEE THE STARS
BUT ALL I SEE IS DARKNESS
HEAVEN MUST BE SOMEWHERE
MAYBE THIS IS IT
CLINGING ONTO NOTHING MUCH
EXCEPT THE BEAUTY I REJECT
SQUARES AND CIRCLES INVADE ME
WITH TRUCKLOADS OF MEANING
FILM FOOTAGE FADED BY YEARS
AND NOT ENOUGH MEMORIES
TURNED INTO THE PAST
BY SOME STRANGE SLEIGHT OF HAND
I�M NOT ANYONE SPECIAL
I�M JUST ANOTHER FAILED WIZARD
CONFIDENCE
DOESN�T COME EASILY
YOU LOOK AT FACES
STARING OUT OF WINDOWS
THEY EAT THEIR
BURGERS FROM PAPER PLATES
DRINK THEIR COFFEE
AND SPILL IT ONTO NAPKINS
FOG HIDES THE NIGHT
SWEEPS UP THE TRASH
CHILDREN HIDE FROM MONSTERS
IN BLACK PLASTIC BAGS
THEY RUN THROUGH
ALLEYS THAT TWIST FOREVER
TELL ANCIENT STORIES
WRITTEN IN CHALK
LOCKED AWAY
LIKE A GERBIL
TURNED IN ON
YOURSELF, SCARED
TO MOVE IN CASE
YOU SHAKE THE
BARS. THERE�S
FREEDOM OUTSIDE-
PEOPLE MOVE AROUND
IN SELF-
ASSURED ARMOUR.
TURN IN ON
YOURSELF, AS IF
THERE�S NO HOPE
ANYMORE� JUST
ANOTHER DAY IN
THE LIFE OF A
HALF-A-SHANDY
LOSER. FUCKED-UP
WEIRD KID WITH
NO ONE TO LISTEN.
LOCKED AWAY
LIKE AN INSECT
MUTILATED
BY LIGHTS.
QUIET PAST,
LONELY STATION,
THE FINAL DREGS
OF A CONVERSATION.
TOO TIRED TO LAUGH
AT THE BEER
OR THE JOKES-
JUST EMPTY SMOKE.
PERFUME FOR THE EARS
CURLING AROUND LIKE FIRE,
LOST IN THE DENSE SMOG
WHICH TRAVELS HIGHER
INTO A DEEP SLEEP.
HOPE IS LOST
AND HOPES TO KEEP
SOMETHING BACK
FOR THE MORNING.