She sits in the middle of a country barn.
Just clouds come and go.
She weaves a shawl, she weaves a yarn,
Singing only of what the lonely know.

And after dark, when all’s at peace,
She turns and throws the hay around
‘Cause she’s a little fire *******
Nailed to the ground.

Nailed to a promise
Common and deep.
Nailed to a coma
Counting Shivas in her sleep.

A ***** white dress won’t keep her warm.
And feet won’t keep her standing.
Out in the world, all hurried with harm,
She’s tired of all commanding.

A crack in the roof, the rain comes through,
She drinks and laughs at thunder.
Her song will never be heard by you,
With the spell her words are under.

Nailed to a promise
Common and deep.
Nailed to a coma
Counting Shivas in her sleep.

A day will dawn and out she’ll get
To money fame and wonder.
Her breathing soul slips every net
But her body heaves with hunger.

And into the arms of one blind man
She gives her only child
Who’ll grow to find a promise land
Where her mother wept in the wild.

Nailed to a promise
Common and deep.
Nailed to a coma
Counting Shivas in her sleep.

Simple, Ignorant and
Violently happy.
A lifetime’s days
In a daze.
A crippled ornament,
Deliriously mad, he
Threads a love theme
Through all his plays.
He’ll leave all his senses slowly
’Til each falls away with a sigh,
And the last of these will be Glory,
As the living lorn smiles, he’ll die.

But pause for a second to sing
And point the way with his eyes
To where the children of Art-her Kings,
Dance drunk round a furnace of cries.

Am I afraid of easy chords.
Silly Rhymes and cheesy words,
To get myself into the loop,
Become a Supergroup?

A smile, a flash, mag and a bang,
You’ll let me into your gang.
Keep me safe with brawny dudes
From semi-conscious semi-nudes.

Please take this
Lord’s Apprentice
And turn him into a God.
Not a Saviour
Of Pleasuremania,
But a Rabid, Raging Dog.

Sublime. Sublime.

Should I use my knife to butter up,
Not cynically cut her up.
Shake the hand of slimy fate,
Embrace the things I love to hate.
Recant in a million interviews
How to wake up and beat the blues,
Become a Lucky Laughing Boy,
A world wide web wind up toy.

Please take this
Lord’s Apprentice
And turn him into a God.
Not a Saviour
Of Pleasuremania,
But a Rabid, Raging Dog.

Sublime. Sublime.

You’ll want your God to close his eyes

        And forget he ever had a memory,

When you hear what’s on my mind

Sexually unsavoury.

The darkest deepest dream

To ever creep into a sleep,

Peacefully obscene,

That will wake a guilt so sad

Relentless prayers on tap

And each sincerely crafted

Will seep into insignificance

To bring tears from the devil’s heart.

Every drop of adrenalin

Will freeze and run no more,

For the label on such a deadly sin

Is ‘rotten to the core’


But why be afraid of your thoughts

It’s hard to understand

Or should forgiveness be sought.

Keep Believin’
Keep Believin’
She’s not leavin’
But peelin’ away some time

You won’t find the right lines
To reassure this mad mind.
Come face me,
Embrace me I’m wasting,
Please save me.

Keep Believin’
Keep Believin’
She’s not leavin’
But peelin’ away some time

I’m in the dark here,
Crippling cage of fear,
And each bar grows from each tear.
Cold comfort. Salt sunburn.
No respite, No return.

Keep Believin’
Keep Believin’
She’s not leavin’
But peelin’ away some time

It’s a little bit of something

It’s a little bit of somewhere

It’s a little bit of someone

Singing ‘Hallelujah, Take me there.’

There’s a little boy waitin’
And he’s holding on tight.
His open eyelids failin’
Him before the day’s first light.

There’s three men waitin’
They’re walking all night.
By the end of the page
They’re dazed, praising what’s
Before their eyes.

A young woman is wakin’

Each night with a fright.

Her room she’s pacin’

Facing fears about her own little life.

There’s an old man waitin’.

Pots o’ tea all night.

He’s alone in the country

Without company, or sugar or sight.

There’s a little bit of anger
There’s a little bit of pain
There’s a little bit of loving
Smoothing over us all
And bringing us back again

It’s a little bit of something

It’s a little bit of somewhere

It’s a little bit of someone

Singing ‘Hallelujah, Take me there.’

Be all my sins
And all my wishes
Wrapped in one.

Your cold hand
Warms itself on me.
My jaw falls
Into yours.

Nothing opens wide enough.
Hunger hates itself.
Eats away at itself unsatisfied.
Unsatisfiable.

And he’s holdin’ on,
O he’s holdin’on,
And his lies are ready to burn him.

Tell me when,
We will never speak of
Soft things again.
Of ice-cream in the
Park and holding hands.

Then... I’ll be chewing
Pins and blades
And hurting friends.

******* my name
Into the sand.
‘ Deck, the wreck,
with his neck
unpecked in months.

Needing always needing.
Feeling always feeling.
Bleeding always bleeding
From somewhere where he
Can fit his hand into
The wound, feeling
For his heart,
His soft
Unsought after heart-
Festering with prejudice,
Jealousy and self-pity.
How accomplished?

Tell me when,
We will never speak of
Soft things again.

Buddha’s at the bar
Skulling pints and starting fights
And causing war.

Gone too far.

His life isn’t real
It’s just a dream
Of those in need
Like you and me.

We’ve gone too far.

Sonar stones are thrown
Across a street
And running feet
Are running Home.

Homeless Bones.

Kids are telling fibs
About his nibs in No.3
Who never sleeps and lives alone.

Home alone.

Buddha’s makin’ sense
About the tense unhappy men
Who drink in bars
And write on walls and smokes cigars.

But we haven’t time
To clean and shine.
So up we get
And dodge our debts
And place our bets
And close our eyes.
All will be fine...
Hope it’s fine.

Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I sighing?

Old bowls empty of cereal,
Curtains made of see-through material.
Why am I,
Why am I crying?

Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I dying.

Just me and a cube in the corner,
A rooted tube of squalor.
Why am I,
Why am I not flying.

Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I here,
Why am I here lying.

Until it changed colour,
Until it came blood,
Until it fell battered,
Losing it's love.

Seemingly sturdy,
Stretch and then cover.
Stealing the seed, that
Comes from a lover.

Tripping and falling a
Way through the dark,
Hoping our head
Takes a grip on out heart.

Time after time
After time after time,
Carelessly, clumsily
Closing our minds.

Pausing to lean back
And leap for the Lamb.
Patiently wasting
The boy in the man.

Words. Matter.
Word Matters.
Words Matter.
Word Matter.

In the space between light and dark, are you waiting? In the space between silence and sound, are you there? Please come and hold me now. I try so hard to let go. I struggle so hard to be soft. I tumble unmercifully. My stomach insists on the last threads to my mind. Hurry. Bring sleep. Then, if not, please be waiting for me in my sleep. Peace.

Not about me, no.
You? no.
Then we then?
Us.

We know me and you.
Not us.

How you look in candlelight.
How you feel
In my arms at night.
When I see you breathing in your sleep
You mean the world to me.
There’s no pleasure like your touch
My hand misses yours so much.
Tell me that
You’re coming back
We can’t leave it... Like that
Just don’t leave it... Like that.