I want to buy a diamond or a pearl
for a girl
that I know,but I
got no dough,oh
oh.
She'll have to get by on fresh air,
will she care?
I don't know,oh,oh,
oh,
oh ,oh.
No dough.

Cigarette in my left hand and a pen in my right,I am drifting through smoke swirling words in the night and the letters catch light as they flow from the page and the stage is all set but the exodus finds me alone in this attic.
Now static
now mobile,alive somewhat docile but burrowing in files for something I can't find.In my mind there's a triptych which tricks me,the opponent that licks me each time that we fight,
In the smoke of the night where the firelight still warms me and the words that I write serve only to warn me of an impending doom,she
sits in another room and waits for the ink to dissolve,for me to make a resolve to be involved.
Involved only with ink
stains
I can't think, she fries my brains
so I light one more cigarette and in the blue rings I blow,I know,
I
write only to forget.

I have always found trigonometry helpful,especially when boiling eggs,my maths teacher who was himself somewhat of an egg head,said,'it's all about angles,I read it as Angels and ever since then have been trying to plot a course to heaven.

I found Geography extremely useful,although I can't find my way back home on a Saturday night after a few pints of beer at the local inn,my tutors words come back to me,follow the spot on the end of your nose and you'll always go in the direction you are heading in.


Religious instruction was fascinating, who would have guessed there were so many thees and thous and sacred cows don't get a mention at all.Idols and idle men and prophets who preach for no profit at all,seas that part and fishermen and romans who rule are they the rowmen?

Sports was good.the physical exertion of training,the rugby field in the pouring rain,and the medicine ball..which we used if we needed no medicine at all. I climbed up the ropes in the gymnasium and expected to disappear,like some fakir in the backstreets of Bombay.it never happened and I'm still climbing

#English lessons. why is the language of my fathers all greek to me,past imperfect,present tense,commas and the colon,what a bleedin' carry on,Keats and Shelly and what the hell is poetry,my English teacher who was called Gupta Singh taught me all I ever knew.

Music, food for the gods and food for the cats and the piano never played in key.teacher said it was me who couldn't carry the tune,the oboe,bassoon,the flute,lute,triangle,the jingle jangle of mediocrity is everything that music means to me.

Art,the only lesson in which I really took part..loved the splashing of colours and the butter of words on the sheets,loved the wisdom of wordsworth,the delicacy of picasso and then,in the factory when I left school there was art in the furnace,in the pig iron and ingots,the melting of iron the fire and the bellows...but I saw none of it because work took it away from me,artists are only ever free when they're painting or writing and not working to stave off starvation.

yes school taught me so much but now it's all gone, as the headmaster told me....'you'll never be anything if you don't make something of your life' or is it that the headmasters gone and life goes on,...

Philosophy was good too.

Biology taught me that we come from eggs and we could have been ducks or platypii..and pi is not a platypus but a mathematical equation..education may help us to learn but it can be very confusing.

History..it's always good to know that we walk on the bones of the dead as we wander through The battlefield of history.and that Mesopotamia which is historical is also biblical, two lessons in one,

education on the cheap.

I don't mind,I confess that the life that I live is one helluva mess but it's mine,just
don't mess with me and we'll get on real fine,
time was and that was a time when I bigged it up down on the front line,strutting my stuff,getting enough of it,working it bit by bit,so why do I feel like ****?
I guess it's the hormones,outstanding debts and unpaid loans and you'd better believe that PayPal is no no pal of mine.
I can see that I could float free from this strife,under the tube train,end of my life but the world is rife with people like that,people who flatten themselves against the brick wall,people who don't care whether or not they rise or they fall,it's all
******* to me,but
I want to be free,not a tree,not a mouse ,not a mortgaged to the arsehiole of eternity house,
I want to be me.

I need a ***** and coke,I need to chill have a smoke and relax
it's Saturday and Friday has drifted away in a toxic black cloud,
I'm allowed to get drunk now,oh how I have worked like a dog,like a cog going round I've been ground into dirt,there's sweat on my brow,on my lips and my shirt and I've had my fill of employment this week.
So now I shall seek out the wisdom of spirits that pour into me as I sit comfortably on the edge of the bed,and when my head starts to smoke,I'll have another ***** and coke and light another cigar.
So far,so good,touch paper,cut wood and as you can see,the spirits I'm drinking have affected me.
I don't care,I'm not wearing my heart on my sleeve,what heart? that departed a long time ago,leaving me slow on the uptake unless it's to partake in one for the road,one before sleep,one which will keep me comatose, in deep counting sheep,
Oh christ dear brother pour me another and smother me with one more,just one double that I could adore,it's no good,knock on wood I am ******,I think that I missed my calling,how galling when I think that I'm falling I'm not,it's who I am and what I've got and what I've got is one more tot with one more spot of coke.

Tick
Tock
rewind of the clock
remind me to knock on your door
please tell me that there is some more behind there or is at bare as I think it may be?
can only the clock that drives me only see?
A universe I may be
I only see an
empty space.

On the sidewalk there's talk of a new generation that denigrates the old ways and only lives for blue sky days,
It pays to listen to the word on the street,to jive with the beat and to cool off in the heat with a jigger of ***,
and that's *** enough for the bums and bedraggled,the stragglers left behind in this race,
there's no place for them in the new blue sky days,we'll do away with the shoddy lot of them in our secretive ways
they won't worry us no more.
Thus the unwashed are cleansed,washed away in the Thames and the streets are so sterile
fertile indeed for the new generation who'll have their babies gestated in cappuccino cafes whilst bemoaning about the demise of the 'good old days'
I'm not a part of it
never have been in the new scene
I don't want to know so I'll go and bury my head in the sand,and
hope it all goes away.

It's a Tonto kind of night tonight,go it alone
I'll get it right.
Out of sight and out of mind is what I find to be the best,and
lest you think I'm back on the drink,I'm not
I've got
more sense than that.
Hiyo Silver.

It is as if I thought I knew where this life I've lived was leading to, but though I see I am blind to the things there are that I should find
and each door that I go through leads me to a new tomorrow and I know tomorrow never comes,it's just another day.
There's no way that I could be as calm or raging as the deep blue sea,each tiny breath another death leads me to a place where I'll be free,and the lines wrote on your face, I have read a thousand times or more,another door,another way and we're living for today.
In the compartments of my heart there is one where love has found a part to play, won't you stay,make your home inside of me,each tiny breath another death and one day I know I shall be free,
shall we go
shall we stay
for another day.

I want to be a pirate and sail the seven seas
command the open oceans
and bring
Poseidon to his knees.
Alas I suffer from mal de mer
the smell of salt makes me sick
I swear.
It seems I'll never go to sea
so
a pirate's life is not for me.