We all know when we are not wanted as it seems that many do,
A jolly up in the town, everyone there but you
Your work mates are friendly but only for the day
Theyve spoke of their home lives and that they think the dog is gay
A bit of what is known as banter wouldn't go a miss
Your mates of old all married now, your still searching for that bliss
Facebook and Twitter can be the final hurrah with pictures of their lives
2 kids and a dog to boot, only way to get them out is a free drink as a bribe
Your best friend and their new found buds, all arms up on that log flume up north
We had days like that at Chessington, 18 and ******, before your kids were spawned
We pretend we live alternative lives, who needs that wholesome charade of a perfection
A City flier, on all the apps, a wit you could not section
You tell the world your happy as, a life now ruled by Tinder
But tell the truth, your home in bed, fish finger sandwich probably from Findus
But it pulls at the heart, those pictures of happiness and a life that you thought was right
I'll get there someday, just ignoring the now, I'll say it again,

Thanks For The Invite

JJB

A wrong word, a comma out of place
Misspelled, hyphenated, split into two
English sometimes a second language to me

A conversation taken too far
Stop! Don't tell that tale, now hindsight playing on your mind
What if they tell my parents, a big mouth I sometimes have

A joke, somebody's you heard on television
Don't try and make it your own
Its universal, you look like a fool, its out in the cosmos

A chat-up line, cheesy but sincere, will she even laugh
She smiled, now go away, try harder
Your persistence now overwhelming, time to cut that cord

The older you get, you then start to realise
Most things really are not worth it
The chase, the charm, what did you expect, no finish line in the race

To watch the ruler of the free world elected by the rabble
He says what he wants, laughed off in a tirade
But how long will he last by stating these massive promises

Yes we have all said something and thought back on that
Did that actually just come out of my mouth?
Yes, it really did, as on this Earth, hell,

Even I Make Mistakes

JJB

You are Number One
You don't get hurt
You avoid sharp objects
You keep away from the dangerous
You shy away from the precarious
You do all this because you know
You drive a car most likely a Volvo
You don't fly on planes as they sometimes crash
You keep to the middle lane as motorways can be havoc
You even avoid roundabouts but always give way to the right
You know your times of what trains arriving
You have a set routine as disruption is not part of life's plan
You know people find you boring but that's down to them
You wash the car every Sunday as its recommended in life
You casually converse with your neighbour but secretly hate them
You even as a kid avoided climbing the local tree's because,

Life is a short journey and what is to be is to be,

The Importance of Being Me

JJB

Sometimes in life you don't know what you have got,
That one thing that can just drag you from that spot

A saviour, a God send, a Knight in shining armour,
Somebody who you would die for and not let a soul harm her

On a personal note I've been down some dark and troublesome roads,
But she has always been there through thick and thin to share this cumbersome load

A battler, a fighter, you wouldn't get on the wrong side of her,
She'd rinse you, she'd mince you, no matter lady or Sir

For she has always been by my side and she is everything to me,
Deirdra is her name but she'll always be,

My Dee

JJB

If you've not done it then you are a liar too
The luxury of the able-bodied to have a sneaky little poo
Look left, look right, there's nobody about
A peaceful time for what's needed now
A better handwash and a cleaner surround,
from the ceiling to extractor fan
Even onto the white grout

I'm not one to judge as I'd been there before
From a night in Yates's where they want your key to sniff coke
These private, uncompromising rooms have a life of their own, with stories I will not joke

The people of most Wetherspoons have a disabled key they use on a daily basis
Nothing wrong with them all, the odd one with a genuine NHS bracelet,
I tell you now, you really do start to hate it

But it is nice to be away from the majority of the public in a life I did not choose
Occupied, red dial turned, out come a pair of girls mostly half drunk, always together as a two
That is probably why it gets me down, a daily occurrence,
it affects us all,

These,

Disabled bog blues

JJB

We all know each other, if just from sound and sight
If brown, yellow, green or white
But sometimes its hard to tell even if their jeans are worn too tight

We all know whereabouts on the planet they were roughly born
If not from their clothes or a place now politically torn
But to have knowledge of a race with a history once scorned,

Its an ace card to hold when dipping your toes
Lets not get with a being who's past we all know
For war is a past, sometimes a crime, they'd just like to outgrow

A canine has no clue with who'm they may mate
As a mongrel is mongrel until they changed the label and date
A Labradoodle to a Cockerpoo and now even a Schnoodle
Its getting so confusing, well thank the Lord for Google!

Well we all have to have one thing and that is a label
Just let the dog be and lay underneath the kitchen table
Its becoming so confusing with how they are supposed to grow
Let nature take its course, I mean,

Does a dog even know?

JJB

If I could take the parts, you know,
the bits that don't really matter
one by one,
moment by moment,
and push them off a cliff to a place that collects such worthless clutter

The mistakes I have made,
the thoughts that shouldn't follow on through but do
those past revelations, such stories of wondrous lies and the times I should just have just poopooed

We live a life that is never in the here and the now
The mundane taking over, every work hour a taste so sour
To look and to basically be your best,
those wrinkles showing old age,
an advert on your brow

We'd like to shove all these inacuracies and self loathing on a one way trip to hell
but its a part of the human being that grounds us all, a one time life in this corruptible shell

So to take away those parts that make us so inaccurate
would be a boring life with no ups or downs as we all like a few quid on an unsafe bet
those niggles, such talk that is utter drivel,
all to be placed in a room with a designated shelf

Not a chance, its a part of our lives,
for who would ever want to have,

A Divorce From One's Self

JJB

I've never been a fan of a permanent picture tan
as I see them as a mark for life
a girl you once met, love at first sight
a mark on your neck, soon to disappear,
that tacky and ravenous love-bite

Married, three kids, a stupid affair, her name scrolled on your arm
like many a girl, she fell into your world,
all fallen for your devastating charm
But it happens so quick, that stupid thought of the fix,
all for some girl that you met down the pub
now everyday that you shower,
it doesn't matter about how much power,
its a stain that you cannot simply just rub

Styles, well they come and they go,
depending on what year you are born
mates at school , pictures drawn on the wall,
which girls name as your loyalty's are torn

But this was when you was a kid, acting like a ***,
showing off to those all around
now I'd like them removed, a name now a scar, not so smooth,
a hindsight of thoughts now drowned

Tattoo

JJB

I have colleagues and people that do
Have known a bestie at times but none of them are you
For we see things in an alternative and a make believe life
Where no one answers back and our life is just right

You laugh at my misgivings for you share the same exiled humour
Random thoughts as one, we share our friendship as it is but a rumour
We lose our own imaginary land in a life which is controlled by real life borders
As a made up friend can do no wrong or be taken over by fraudsters

As you are,
A text I cannot send
A cut that I cannot mend
A story that cannot trend
A night out where I cannot spend
For no other words here that I can lend,
As you are my,

Imaginary friend

JJB

Directions are great when there is one to follow
No map
No book
No clue
Its down to you

It all starts from day one
You watch
You listen
You learn
Everyday a lesson in which way to turn

Given the odd snippet of how it is done
Been there
Been everywhere
Been the real me
Down to you now so lets see

The guidebook is written as we go along
To be that man
To be those who can
To see over the upcoming hill and be the boss

For we will always be this in life,

Lost

JJB

You thought it
You dreamt it
You put it into a pass
She heard it
She ignored it
She'd heard it somewhere in the past
Your punching
You've no chance
Your well out of your league
She's stunning
She knows this
She's from another seed
Yes she likes you
Yes you're no Cupid
And yes, you did say something stupid,

And that's probably why she's with you

JJB

You laughed
You really did laugh
At a joke so morbid yet clear
Seen as a sin
Now straight in the bin
To chuckle at something so near
I'm hurt
Were hurt
A group so new and always it seems in fear
Offended
Say it again, now reoffended
by a story so funny it used to bring a tear
For humour is old
To be told is now bold
That now lurks in us all as a ghost,

For it is,

A Death Less Funny Than Most

JJB

Since I became paralysed I've lost the will to use it
My instinct, my never say never, my last minute don't give a ****,
now just a gurgle in a draining sink

I'd say to the wife, let's stay here, book a room, a night of passion,
not a care in the drop of a beat
Now I must pre-book, distinctly decide,
accessible doors and not to forget the supps, the **** and an inco sheet

The cage maybe open but the beast is still asleep,
only awoken by a blue pill for the night
A reliance now dependant on who signs the scribble,
paid for by the NHS and who's not feeling to tight

Are there steps and is it really going to be worth it
the struggle, the helping out and sometimes feeling like a useless ***
OK, so its not really that bad
I just emphasis the crap points that sometimes make me sad

But its a new way of life you really had better believe
to have back what I had before, yes I often do grieve
but there is no going back as it is what it is
keep your head up,
keep your heart strong and try and regain that lost fizz

JJB

Sometimes they think they are it
the man of the house, demanding when sat, a real big hit
relishing the chain of command over those who wait on hand and foot
for they start off small, expecting so much more,
as they have written the book

But let’s not forget who is the real master here
they are just a cub, cute yet endearing,
but you’d rather be down the pub supping a beer
scratching the sofa with eyes so large they are easily forgiven
killing flies and onto mice, it is how they are driven

As the kitten is a creature yet to grow into its fold
playing like a baby does until its days of old
they’ll fight and cry like kids, you’ll hear them on the street
they won’t give up, soft yet tough,
never knowing when they’re beat

A dog is fun and obeys command, yet these things rarely do
you’ll call all night, their name out loud, but never return on que
yet eat you out of house and home,
Felix down to the last lick of the butter tub
as they are animal of selfish wit,
a beast when grown but will always be my,

Little Lion Cub

JJB

Do it, just ******* do it
Is something holding you back
Your here just the once, unless religious turmoil is on track
Ingenuity was never going to get you the sack

You clever beast, never regret that time you did
Thoughts of woe and wondering why you never got rid
So many things to do in life, that final last bid
Go on, jump, bungee from the Clifton Suspension Bridge

Time is short, that bucket list will never grow again
One hundred moral sins listed, do them all and put down that curious pen
They'll give you a mark on that audacious headstone once dead, 10 out of 10
You'll have a gathering, whats he going to do next, everyone wanting to be your friend

Its a roller coaster ride, a thousand bumps on course
A name to be made of songs they will no doubt sing
Travelled the world from Auckland, New Zealand to Hertfordshire, Tring
For you are a soul, a man not left head scratching, for you,

Wont Die Wondering

JJB

A flitter, a flutter, whats a few quid on a bet
the folly broke its leg on that run, better call that final vet
much like the creature that ran its last race
there are certain things in this life that I cannot face

Her high pitched scream of a laugh is almost a squeal
such a pretty face but her mannerisms and depth I cannot deal
I laughed, tagged along, at first it all seemed so great
but it ends up so weary, solemn yet teary, its day has had its final fate

She had her ups, I had my downs, to be away was my final curtain
had to leave the house, crept to the bookies like a sneaky woodlouse, that divorce was almost certain
but I prefer a bet to her hair, and to always be there, hold the phone, there's a tip at the 3:30 in Ripon
my friends said I must be mad, to leave that beauty, oh so bad, well yes, I must be ****** trippin

But that's life i'm afraid, we all have plans that must be laid, some leading wholly in the wrong direction
she's with some other man now, almost the size of a baby cow, I'm sure their bubba will be perfection

So the bookies it still calls, if its horses to Saturdays goals, those dice will always for me be thrown
for it is what it is, a life as a quiz, what will tomorrow bring, as it really is,

nobody's fault but my own

JJB

Whatever is that urge, that unthoughtful splurge, to annihilate every last thought of that day
to drink to kingdom come, conversations with anyone, and spend all that you have been paid

what ungodly flicker of thought, has you drinking that last drop that you bought
until the sun rises, awake on a bench, lessons that really cannot be taught

Rewind that human clock, until a time when all was once well
hindsight on a wrong word said, tripped in conversation, drink brings up its show and tell
that marriage that you could have had, now stalked each day on Facebook
sent them a drunk friend request, regrets in the morning, crazy thoughts that overtook

I love you man, a Tesco ban, for stealing ***** after the midnight hour of twelve
we laughed and sang, kebabs and dips, only here once so what the hell
the morning after, 12 cans and draught ale, anything that doesn’t touch the sides
your head is thumping, hair of the dog is calling, Round 2 of this stupid drunken ride

But at what point do we put the brakes on, man’s liver this wasn’t built for, the older the less wiser
you’ve tried the lagers, you’ve tried the ciders, lets knock it on the head, time for the Tizer
for the greyer the hair the less you can bare, as our bodies are not getting any younger
now I love to be merry, but it’s a weight I can’t carry, as drink is a thing I can’t do any longer

Drunk

JJB

I am a man living in a house made of boxes
some are posh, others are bedraggled, anything to keep away those **** foxes
I started with a base build, long and robust, its where I have my open window above
only a square mind, it couldn’t be too big although it’s what I’d really love

No corridors or an upstairs en-suite
no no no, not in this hovel, now that really would have been a treat
The big names placed accordingly out there on the front entrance
Amazon to Harrods, Waitrose to Marks, leftover Poundland to build my fence

The roof a leftover roll of industrial cellophane wrap
my outdoor toilet just by the tree, a forest en-suite but no basin or tap
cooking can be a pain as a fire really could spread
a front room so small I eat my dinner from my bed

Now don’t let people tell you you're just some smelly old ***** as you are not
it's just a wrong decision I made in life, now this is how I survive and to camp
the boxes build a structure of life that is not always sturdy and stable
but if that’s how my life went, now I’m just bottom of some table

For this is my home
my refuge
my rest
my result

Remember, we all live a different life, just be grateful for what you have

The Box House

JJB

Ripping down the walls of time and the everyday meet and greet
met my partner on Facebook not at a bar on my own two feet
we got chatting about the falseness of friendships all created by one Yank nerd
A billionaire now due to all our online socializing, his name, Mark Zuckerberg

Just how do we talk now with the obsessiveness of our phones
a chats a chat, whether it be text or twitter, although I still prefer the human tone
some meet on a dating app, you’ll see sat in a bar, looking, almost prairie dog
long term relationship or a snog in the dark, others even go the whole hog

So what has happened too, can I buy you a drink and maybe a little dance
maybe it’s us oldies who still take the old fashioned stance
to use these modern apps I would rather blush than use Tinder or Bumble
remembering the days of maybe a number, a crap film in the dark just looking for a fumble

But times move on and it’s what is known as the modern day version of romance
people take offence with a quick compliment now, I don’t think I’d take my chance
as we are all now sociable addicts with a point to prove each day
I’m engaged, were married, some see it as a place to even come out as gay (hey, it rhymes!)

As this is how we progress in life and it’s how it’s always been
we mix with people we like and dislike as it’s all part of the social scene
others tend to hide their love away as it’s not really for them
but the likes of all the kids today, to them its total Zen

Social/Unsocial

JJB

Let me tell you now, I’ve never picked up a bass guitar in my life
the guy stood stage side, cool as hell, his looks as sharp as a knife
surveying the crowd, picking the best, which girl is coming back to his room
town to town, gig to gig, thanks for the ride, I won’t be back anytime soon

An aura of disdain, a secret never to be told under that cowboy hat of his
reeling through the catalogue, hit after hit, hiding has no place in showbiz
A breed to contend, so lets never offend that man who has a different point of view
we could all have been a plumber or a copper, but the line-up for this role is a very short queue

Comparisons are strange and never the same, from deep sea diver to football goalkeeper
hey, a job’s a job no matter what you do, even home brewer to a honey making beekeeper
So what if you’re an oddball, the world needs its variety
from 6 strings to 4, its hardly a chore, he gave up on the piano and its keys
because that’s the way it is and the life I now live
simple, sometimes exuberant but always content,

That’s it,

Bass player me

JJB

We can't just go on feeling like this
A kick, a comment, refused a goodbye kiss
That verbal black eye that might have well have been a fist

People around you not really giving a ****
You'll be OK, just think of the others, they're stuck in a rut
Not me, oh no, I need a change of luck

So where do I start and what direction to take
A new job, a new start, a spruce of my CV with grades that are fake
That boss that can have a laugh, taking me on out of good grace

A change would do you good once sang Sheryl Crow
Start a new path and leave the rest in tow
Waking up with a perk instead of feeling so ****** low

Coursing that path is an easy thing to write
Jumping in-front of that speeding traffic, yes its a big fright
But you have to move your story and take that daring bite

For this cannot carry on forever as somethings has to be arranged
Sail for new seas on a ship and to be blown in a different way
As this is what I need, new shores, new goals, something so simple

Yes,

A change.

JJB

First day on the job, an apprentice with no clue
Put with some old boy, Norman Collins his name
been plumbing everywhere, from Watford to Timbuktu

Picked me up in his Vauxhall Belmont, a fading sun caught red
telling me tales of his dinner, roadkill on the hob
His wife cooked him these meals, I think he must be mad

Driving out in the sticks, a job for a pal, over near the village of Sarrett
A blob in the road, dead pigeon or badger, well he's not eating that
would have been different if it were something else he said, as he actually fancied a bit of rabbit

I didn't realise what a good bloke he was until a few days with this old codger
My main boss was a grumpy sod, never paid me till he had some
Looking back now, I miss that man, who told me tales of old times and tomfoolery

I used to be a wrestler young John, back in the days of the local funfair
Took on any Herbert who thought he was keen, and showed them the tent exit
From **** McManus to Jackie Pallo, bring them on son, I didn't really care

He locked me in a toilet one day, inside somebody’s house
Let me out I cried, for a good 4 hours, he ignored my every shout
For he couldn’t care less and that’s what I miss, a soul who just larked about

For they seem dead in this day and age where everything is done by the book
Don’t upset the man over there, do you know who he is, he’s the King and you’re just a Rook
As they don’t seem to exist anymore, these men who walk on Gods seven sins
Have a laugh, have joke, as life’s too short
I miss old Norman Collins

JJB

Thoughtful, but not always to the last
you were first, please step in front, you were first to the bar
I’m normally nice as I always try,
because yes,
I’m that kinda guy

Sitting in traffic, three back in the queue
the guy opposite then decides to let us through
I maybe behind the leader but a thank you is always nice,
because yes,
I’m that kinda guy

I stand for my rights as I know my wrong from right
decorum and manners cost nothing in a world where we all seem to fight
a tip of the hat and an elegant goodbye
because yes,
I’m that kinda guy

Open that door and hold it for the following
don’t be inconsiderate and act like a *****
being nice doesn’t take much effort if you try,
because yes,
I’m that kinda guy

Now listen, I am not always one hundred percent moral
as we all have the odd thought that can be considered utterly immoral
but take what you will from me under this everchanging sky
because yes,
I’m that kinda guy

JJB

Parallel’s, and I am not talking bars
another life, another planet, Astra or Escort, lets keep away from cars
another me, another you, did they do what you do
we all have a twin in life, yes, one of me or two of you

If there is another realm where we all live the same,
then what’s the point of this one if its all the same game
do they have a million pounds and drive that car of luxury
a house filled with gold or made from wicker and trees

I could be an animal living a life in the dirt
or a bank robber, a backstabber or even a girl
what if a man, a man of degradation and easily disliked
his prey in a bar, looking for the ****, lurking, circling, drink spiked

We could be anything in an alternative life
a being made to ****** or the reincarnation of Christ
you could be put on your planet to heal the world
or to exterminate the rest and watch the nations die and fold

Or you could just be you as what you are now
a million nine til’ fives, clock in, do the job, clock out
we are all not successful entrepreneurs in that other life of thought
do what you do in this life as its down to what you are taught

For you could just be what you are now and it’s a sad thought to bear
or stood in a wood, growing through time without a single care
that handsome, wallowing, ancient sycamore tree, oh yes

The Alternative to Me

JJB

I am me and nothing else
I do as I please and **** the rest
I can be selfish but also a really nice chap
I speak no ills and cut out the crap
I want to be loved but can go without
I want to be in town but I live far out
I want the perfect job but sat here with a dream
I had it all in my head until I hit the real life screen
I look at the celebs and wonder just how
I cry myself to sleep with the sweat on my brow
I want to be everything that I am not
I wonder why we are given these dreams in a chase where we all one day stop
I wonder
I ponder
I dream,
Man do I dream.

JJB

I remember nothing, that night I had my crash
7 cracked ribs, 1 punctured lung, the other collapsed, my spine taking the ultimate bash
9 months inside, those doctors saving my life, where would I be without the NHS
27 years old, life just at its beginning, those days gone would now be your best

Waking up I looked at my mum and then looked at my dad, tracheostomy stopping me from talking
6 weeks induced coma, crazy dreams I couldn’t tell you, girlfriend now presumably walking
Knowing before told, who is going to be so bold, to tell me the news I knew but still did dread
Dad by my side, a finalisation they could not hide, it’s unlikely you will ever walk again

This I knew but dare not say, family and friends suffering in the know
A wheelchair for life, not me, its not right, too young for this to swallow
Moved to a place where spinal injuries were rife
Stanmore National Orthopaedic Hospital. an institution where you start to see the light

Moved from ward to ward, progress slow but on the mend
contemplating so many situations and a world I did not understand
faces and places now all the same still lying on my back
I want to sit up, be normal again and get this soul back on track

Taught about so much that I really did not know
your biggest priority now was your skin, pressure sores a definite no-no
learning to go to the toilet in a completely different way
catheters and a tube of ****, a perverted dream for some that even pay

The outside world a playground not built for the likes of those in a wheelchair
a trip into town, get used to the tube, disabled design back in the day not really a care
getting into a car, an ease all my life, now governed by the height of the roof
legs under a table, as some now unable, the world now a minefield is the honest truth

I met some characters in that place, men and women with stories to make your mouth drop
some on drugs, some back from the war, one woken from a spinal stroke, wow what a crop
I met certain nurses, most of whom were fabulous and are still now friends
then there were a certain few, riled and crass and basically, a pain in the ***

And this is where life starts all over again
getting used to the looks, sympathetic and loving, life now on a new trend
from being stuck in that ward where a suppository is now needed for my ***
you’ll know where I am, end of the corridor, bay 3 bed 1

JJB

Can somebody tell me just when did this happen
commentary on when the bean is ready to ripen
we had tea long before time
from China down through the Himalayas, our army marched on this stuff
we all now have a new flavoured taste, the humble cup of tea is now considered a crime

From the elegance of Earl Grey to the builder’s cup of Yorkshire
to be handed this over a mocha or latte, oh how those new snobs do sneer
seventy pence for that cup of drivel, I would rather die a thirsty death
a bit like shopping in Lidl, only at my last breath

Sitting down with paper in hand, let me look like I’m part of a movement
I’m one of you, were part of a clan, our work taking up life’s joyous fulfilment
Order a bagel or maybe a donut, take a box back for the guys in HR
I know I’m being ripped off, but best look like a toff, as I struggle to pay for my flash car

And there we have it and what we create, a brand now known in our time
from the mods to the rockers and onto the 80’s yuppie,
to be different is seen as a crime

They rock up to work, Costa in hand as they clock in with their key fobs
for these are the people of today and will always be seen
as the new age coffee snobs.

JJB

Lost in a maze of my own making
Do I tell the truth or just carry on faking
What path do I choose to take and what is best to follow
A quick fix for now or strive for a better tomorrow

Guidance is a road with many directions
Take the shortcut now and carry on with no expectations
Get your head down as a kid and do great at school
As no-one will employ a grade less, hopeful, fool

Jobs on a lamppost advertising three hundred a day
Best get on my knees and believe in God, a riddle only to be solved with a miracle and to prey
The quick fix is a decision taken by many from a poster by the side of the road
So where is this money that is offered, as curious as Bigfoot about to solve the enigma code

Its a cycle of fast-wash stuck on spin, the colours of plenty all just blending in
All looking for that better tomorrow, the easy route perhaps, no thoughts of progression on its whim
Just give it to me now, I want the quick fix with no sign of self worth
What has he produced to live here now, this desperate being now roaming Gods Earth

Lost

JJB

We start as nothing, made from the depths of our soul
A night of passion, a night of depression, we all have a story to be told

A look in a bar, he may have come far,
a little leeway as a sign of relief

We all have our truths, some a little long in the tooth, life comes and goes with its woes

Were they the right one, I need to question my sums, as I picked you from the crowd of plenty

We could have met when we were young, or an older fantasy, but the time was right at around twenty

The kids that we have and the knowledge we pass, all a cycle down the years by us all

Not much has changed, it carries on through years, as we rise and undoubtedly fall

You want to live forever but it all becomes a chore,
The same job whilst checking your pigeonhole, well what a monotonous bore

The everyday conversations with those people you tolerate,
we have the few that we like, the rest become a daily mandate

Now I'm not having a moan as this could be a short life, really, I'm not knocking it now

We all have our ups, we all have our downs, reincarnation baby, I could come back as a cow

But this deal has its one guarantee, and that we all know,
you will always end up like me

Say what you will, this time has its thrills,
but who in the end will pay that final bill
It always has the same ending, as forever its been trending,
our race has finally been run

Hence

What we become

JJB

We all know him, that bloke down the pub
done everything before you but always wants a sub
thinks he knows his football as was at the final back in 81
Ricky Villa scored that goal, 3 touches on the spin, just for a bit of fun

He’s been to every destination that you can only dream
survived gunshot wounds, not a bother, he even ruptured his spleen
pulled a couple of Page 3 girls at the back of Stringfellows club
before it was a crime in the daily rag for these models to pose in the nud

He’s worked all the jobs that you could list on one arm
been married, twice divorced, it’s hard to live life with these bragging charms
Tattoos of past grievances, some he would rather forget
ex-wife’s down to girlfriends, all for a stupid bet

Now the end of the bar is a space well occupied by him
dole money and on the ponse, breaking all of Gods deadly sins
avoid at your peril these creatures of sponge and leech
just wanting a life of ease and comfort, for some, humanity we cannot teach

Lend them nothing and discredit their tales from a life now well past
all lies of inscrutability, from a net well and truly cast
for this is a story told from a man whose race has already been run
as he is that man we all need to avoid
for he is
blagger
number
one

JJB

There you lay, lowered into the ground, your home a box of wood
Your family, your friends, the complimentary do-gooders all surrounded by flowers and food
No more hellos, farewell’s, I haven’t seen you for years
Your life now talked about, the times that you had, all washed away by wine and beer

So, what comes next now you’ve lived as this mortal being
An angel in the clouds, Hawkeye for God as his all now seeing
Or an animal reinvented, now on the prairies of Africa
Living life again as that majestic mammal, adored by the plenty but stalked by the needy

Nobody knows what’s around the next corner or life would just be a bore
If heaven had a handbook we’d pop up there and ask for the tour
As religion is a belief for those who need that false fall-back option
Were all in the same skin, death won’t separate and put us into sections

No matter where you fall flat and now cease to be
That next step in life is always impossible to see
For we do not know if that was our last conversation or text
Life has no rules over what happens next.

JJB

Take a picture. Snap! Now show the world where you have been
That brilliant destination and all of the sights that you have seen
Be it Morocco and onto Timbuctoo, not a thing ever went wrong
The lies that we can tell whilst singing a different song

We live the perfect life as seen by the planet and its friends
Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, instantly removed in a millisecond
For what they can see is fake and often ******
A quick brush up, a digitized wipe and Instagram is oh so worthy

A story to tell your friends of that fantastic night out
Not to mention that later on the bouncer kicked you all out
Delete that girl in the background that you pulled after that shot
The town bike to all who know, never going back to that spot

For social media will always tell a different story
Best looking people in the frame, a night of unreal glory
Waking up with an STD, let’s keep that well away
Some **** at the bar not smooth and slick, forget the box of Milk Tray
For this never happened looking down at your feet
Hers or his, whoevers bed it is
Hence,

Edited

JJB

There is a world renowned secret that no-one told you about
It’s a notion never muttered under forty that it holds such clout
But its being has held for over a thousand years
Don’t let this secret ******* you with fear

Its patriotism to the highest ever order
That death was no mistake, a secret held by those who will find you
Don’t even write a line of similar proportions
Its life or death, you don’t live with one caution

Scratch your head and wonder what I talk of
Should this be written if death near threatens its author
Well I’m not yet of that age of secret discretion
I just heard off of a man who may now need God’s blessing

For he spoke of that sentence which should never have been uttered
Which now lives in my mind and is all of a clutter
For I should never have heard

The secret

JJB

Recently I was told that I need to sell my best aspects
My personal growth, what I can do and that I'm really worth it
Put it on a plate, feed them your brilliance that you’re the right cog for their kit
But I am not that way inclined, I’d rather watch the world go by, as sitting on the wall is where I fit

I don’t mean to be quiet, I have a lot to say but sometimes can be a little shy
Do my words make sense, I’ll just sit on the fence and dream of my bigger fish to fry
But I am told I can make it, don’t just try and fake it, step into this world and be seen
Don’t bottle it up, you have words to be said, all tied down since you was a teen

So where do I start, with these words of mine, in talk or best left written
Do I turn to poetry, or comedy on stage, is this more to chew than I have bitten
What if I’m a failure, looked down upon as a man without a cause
I think this is what has stopped me for years, my life always stuck on pause

There is a word for us that has crept into modern speech, that word being procrastination
I’ll do it tomorrow, never boarding that train, always left wondering at the station
Okay, so maybe that’s too strong a word, I’m a bolder man than an introvert
Just do as you say, step into that pit and stop scratching around in the dirt

For you have ideas, some larger than life
And that one that you always ponder
Roll it out on show, it’s a dead cert
And the world will gasp in wonder

The Introvert

JJB

That poor man, look at him sat there
On his own, shopping for one, no friends or love, bound for life in that hideous wheelchair
Do I talk for him or would that be a sin
It's the modern world, he does as he wants, his decision to be here, I'll leave it down to him
He looks up, can he reach that product, think I'd better go over and help
Can I assist you sir, shall I pass it to you or can you easily get it for yourself

Was this wrong as he sits now in silence, overstepping a mark of just plain goodwill
He looks up at me, a smirk of delight, and relief drains from me like the bitterest pill
Thank you young lady, as I hate to sometimes ask
As to you of course, it seems the simplest of tasks
Because this is not as it's always been, the paraplegic position of that poor individual
Fancy a chat, a coffee in the cafe, and I will tell you the story of how I became so crippled

A state of empowerment now downtrodden, as the view becomes less clear
It’s hard to tell in the blink of an eye, of a life we all so fear
Explanations, requirements, everyday necessities and drugs on a weekly prescription
I could bore you for hours of this tedious droll, but those things become an addiction
So as you can see, I’m not that wee poor man just looking lost in the supermarket
I have a life, I have a heart, I just can’t find a way to prove it

For I am a regular man, now operating in turmoil
As I have already put into the title
This para, really is normal

JJB

He’s a man, the cause of all trouble
Night on the town, Brut for men, that cut of designer stubble
The cheek and the posture, any girl to talk too
A dance, a chat, a kiss on the cheek
He knows how to see the night through

The rules don’t matter when he’s on a mission
Gets stuck in, past the finish line, yeah, that’s his vision
Dressed like a Britpop icon but still thinks he’s a Beatle
The cords, Ben Sherman jacket, shoes that blow your mind
45 on the player, grooving to the sound from the needle

Music rattles around from the depths of Carnaby Street
The Kinks, Lennon to McCartney and even onto The Sweet
Can be crazy like us all, we all have that switch, that one that hides the truth
Hidden, its depths, sometimes need to be unleashed
For that my friend is called character, hiding those forgotten blues
That person is closer than you can see
For that really is,
The taming of the Stu

JJB

Come on, you’ve had that thought, that where do I fit in life
I have these crazy dreams, I’m not me but watching through somebody else’s eye
You’re on a bridge in Bristol looking over yonder at a place of make believe
It could be anywhere in your mind and then pops up your mate Steve (hi dream Steve, what you are doing here?)

Yes, you dream all sorts of mad cap ideas which even you don’t understand
But somewhere, in that messed up head of yours, is an idea, so impulsive, so magnificent, so world changing and yet so grand
Dig it out, you know you can, its hiding around a corner just waiting to be unleashed
If it escapes, capture it, feed it, calm it and this my friend will help you on your own two feet

You think I’m crazy? Yeah, probably
But you’re only here once, don’t put it off, this is that lost cog
McCartney dreamt up Let it Be and look what happened to him
Multi-millionaire, annoying as hell, married a one-legged ex *******, no sorry, don’t be like him

But they come, flittering and fluttering whilst disappearing in a jiffy
Those thoughts of ideas, you could change the world, just one of them a gimme
The wheel, the thread, the wind-up radio
Pull it out of that deep dark hole in your brain and there you have it, sold

Now don’t read the rest of this, you’ve got ideas to ignite
Hand that notice in, bye-bye awful boss, its time for me to take flight

As I am that lost cog

JJB

Jump in your car, time for that journey
Great for a while until that thing that bothers me
There she is stood, waiting for her lift
You can’t get to work, I’ll be your daily gift

What have I let myself in for
Fancied her at first but this is now a chore
Always second guessing whatever I may do
A mistake I have made and now hard to undo

I turn left she says it’s on the right
Lips curls in anger, carry on, its not worth the fight
His name is Mark, I’ve known him for years
It’s spelt with a C, his parents were different, their philosophy, now I’m in tears  

Well what do I know, wrong in every decision
I saw us together for years to come, now it’s a different vision
Radios on the station which to her is obviously wrong
Not that band, their music is rank, put on a different song

The saying is so true about judging a book by its cover
A face so pretty, hiding such secrets, I’d rather be her enemy than her lover
Best get on that phone and start the search for another job
I can’t bear this anymore, time for her to leech onto some other poor sod

Let me drive my life in my direction without this pretty preacher
Because God knows you don’t need a back-seat driver

JJB

Every village, town and city of mass proportion is bound to have some
The ‘didn’t make the grade at school’ so who else will now take them
The parents repugnant, ******, and living off the dole
Breed with each other to produce their spawn, the taxpayer taking this toll

Infesting our lives with their spit and their spat, just turn on Jeremy Kyle
You’ll see what I mean, like a bad daydream, their being is utmost vile
Its entertainment to some who revere in this mess, only glad that its not them
Sulking the streets and just on the scrounge and oh look, their face on the News at Ten

****** is harsh as it’s not what I mean, but it fits the slot so well
So why are they here and what is their use, doesn’t the devil need a hand in hell?
But they exist, and you see them every day, hanging on the corner of the street
Even the village idiot had his job, backwards in kind but still rather sweet

So what do we do in trying to combat this evolution, going backwards in the blink of an eye
Education is wasted and the armed forces is a no, it almost makes me want to stop and cry

So this is the way that the human may go, just look back at the millennia’s past
The dinosaurs failed and the mammoth is gone, just how long are we going to last?

The Retards

JJB

Are we just actors in a play by God
Put here for him to play whilst bored on his other job
A game of sorts, with devilish cohorts, just dice for them to throw
Its all just pretend, no script or friend as once seen in the Truman Show

How many are there, moving us around from a place of unknown premise
Black holes dissolve and planets collide, Gods bored with destructive menace
We believe in so many powers but who is the real McCoy
Us just sat here for millions of years, scared of death and what comes next
But we are just their little toys

The Act

JJB

Touring the cities of England and the UK
Back of a transit van, rocking up to anywhere that paid
The brothers Grimm and their trusty cohorts
Bonehead on rhythm, McCarroll on drums, Guigsy up to all sorts

That gig at the Wah Wah, King Tuts to be precise
Glasgow you beauty, **** the next show up in Fife
The man that found them, a mister Alan McGee
A Britpop revolution, all great memories

They came and most failed, that one gig on Top of The Pops
Menswear to Mansun and an array of rank haircuts where the seagulls did flock
We had the trendies in Camden all hanging around on their scooters with parka’s
Noel or Liam and that fella from Echobelly, anything to be famous and get on the telly

But then the times must end and it all turned a little sour
A few trudged on with an album or two, the Manics to Cast and the lyrics from John Power
Patsy and Liam had that cover on the front of Vanity Fair
Draped in Britannia, divorce on the cards, strange how no-one now cares

Good times they were without a worry in the world and a now gone era
Euro 96, Southgate’s miss and those goals from Teddy and Shearer
A time well remembered and days I’d love to see back
If not only for the music but for the not caring and the unforeseen great craic

Not to hate the now as times move on
But a day in the past, served at seventeen and to claim you were the one
Not to be asked I.D. and sneakily drink that Stella
laughing at the bar, king of the blaggers, not to be served again by that same fella

Before the phone and the apps, we used to meet face to face
Girl at the bar, a bit of blarney and a home number to suit, always up for the chase
Do you ring tomorrow and who’s going to answer
Her mum might be alright, but her dad could be a ******!

I couldn’t imagine doing it all again now
Swipe left to say no or right to give it a go
Seems inhuman to me not to spark up a chat
But maybe that’s just me, stuck in past, I’m just old hat.

JJB

If you are not like me then you will never probably see
The million thoughts I dream of being everyday
A sailor, a wrestler, but never a candlestick maker (ambition people, come on!)

We all think outside the box but end up never breaking out
Tesco’s, stuck on the till, idealist conceptions up on a hill but sat here earning nowt

Its human instinct to better yourself
Flunked GCSE’s, a mortgage to pay but still dreaming of better days

Am I the only one who thinks like this
I work to live, not live to work, the optimist in me always wanting his bliss

Life begins to **** this wanting of a concept
Sorry lads, the time is now, be like them and live with the debts

It’s what you do that counts, that journey from start to finish
Live like a king or slide away and diminish,

A million thoughts

JJB

Pick a team from the local to the ten counties away
Inherited from your father or defiant like no other
Typical football fan that likes a bit of banter
No way I’ll be the same as my brother

Be it a County or a Town, there will always be days where you’ll have to frown
From striker to the keeper, mistakes are made where someone acted the clown
But when Saturday comes that will all be forgotten
Hat-trick from the Spaniard you’re once again smitten

The rivalries increase from City to United
Yours will always be the best team well that’s what your dad said
From the Celtic to the Rangers down to the Arsenals and the Hotspurs
Trouble has brewed for years without a kick-start or a stir

And then the billionaires stepped in and made it a business
Money to be made from the working class through to the Stubhub ticket
The tout on the street is an illegal source of income
Whack on a tax and the Governments blind eye is now looking handsome

So how far can this escalate with wages and ticket price entry
The first player worth a billion is only a few years away
Stadiums that hold a capacity where nobody can actually see
You think I’m making a joke, it’s all on the horizon believe me,
It’s a way of life,
Football

JJB

We all want to live the high life, but few can ill afford it
The glamour the glitz to dining at the Ritz, a means to which we could all be easily adjusted
But the nine till five pays pittance for those shots in Hello and Vogue
The dreamer can dream their dreams while living off that hefty loan

The Range Rover, the Levante, the Lexus RX, who wouldn’t be jealous of a little luxury
The clothes to the house with security and lights, boy you must be worth a few pennies
Erroneousness and the falsehood of a life well concealed
Paying back that percentage rate from which you may now reel

The reality is your just keeping up with the Jones's
Penny pinching is a way of life but best not show the neighbours
Walk on with your head held high in the knowing that all’s not good
Struggling to pay the bills and sometimes even your food

So here comes the bail out from someone close by
Indebted to your eyeballs without the decency to even cry
The banks would laugh at your misgivings knowing the debt was in their hands
But you carry on, it’s a way of life hanging onto that final strand

You’re in the clear, all debt is gone, time to make a fresh new start
A second hand Fiesta, *** burns in the seat, what happened to my big shiny car
The mums at the gate all talking in sneers, now that I’m out of the pack
Fill out that online form, more credit to burn, time to get back on track,
and revitalize that false front.

JJB