Amputated from man
Amputated by man
Implanted to the outside of a wall
A foreigner refused entry into the family
The patern is as such: evrey need I fill
Opens up another two in me
One morning I awoke an amputee

And so it continued the whole life through
"How sincerity made a mad man of you"
If I ever face the mirror that's what I would say to thee
But me and my reflection have gone our seperate ways you see
Half a coffin for the amputee

I know they blame me and say how it's all my fault
Just cos I don't have a hatred for others
Which clearly they have got
Selfish to the core...vanity pride and greed..
Trick a poor stranger for an extra penny
Charge an arm and a leg from an amputee

God has unlocked my heart
But not the padlock on his gate
Heaven may be within reach
But hell is on a plait
So shall I DIE now??..is that what it will take ?
To make happy those so called "near to me"
To beautifie the amputee.

When I die of this love
Come ... carve “fool”
On my grey stone

I walk a coward’s path
I am only beautiful
When I am alone

I know now there is a cure
That God does not possess
It is him! And not me!
Whom should step forward and confess

Though I never told you a lie
My reward was not the truth
Because our love got lost and so
At middle age I am finally sick of youth,

The outline of my soul is missing
You left me behind without
Letting go of my hand.

And now what is the order of the day?
For I am flying in the disorder of the night
A bird that knows not where to land.

If I could watch you sleep
I would not have the heart to awake you

I am poor ... unattractive ... lack entertainment ...
Where do I find the nerve
To take you?

I hear the hum of the lake in your eyes
My bones revolt, break through my skin
To protect you

I will crawl to the four corners of the world
Alas, you have instructed me
To forsake you.

If I could watch you sleep
I would gather birds and hire instruments
To awake you.

Million Star Hotel
That's where the man stay
Huddled up in a shop doorway

The traffic a lullaby
Room service from passes by
Million Star Hotel
Where a Million people stay

"What makes me laugh",he'd say
"Is that I think I smell"
"What makes me sad",then he'd say
"Is my loneliness.."

God has put survival in the air
I wake up with people urinating
Aiming for my ear
My face is cursed with an evil look
That my heart does not possess
But it's not that which makes me sad
What makes me sad is my...loneliness

My loneliness can fill evrey suitcase ever made
Fill evrey shoe that's ever been worn
It can crack a mountain
I've seen it outshine the stars at night
And I've seen it cast its shadow over the sun at dawn

Voluntarily...or...inevitably perhaps...
I some how engineered my social collaps
And so I checked in to the Million Star Hotel
Where I found my peace in the Epicenter of hell...

What happens to your name
After it is written down?

Does it fly to the dead and remind
Them of the beauty they have lost?
-or-
Does it travel the world slipping
Poison in to the cups of little tyrants?
-or-
Does it blow from town to city driping
Glue in to the eyes of racists?
-or-
Does it turn in to grass
Where grass is needed most?
-or-
Does it hang from a chain
In the shape of a cross?
-or-
Does it fall in to a poor mans dream
Sparkling like a stream of gold?
-or-
Does it sit by your side
Watching you grow old?

What happens to your name
After it is written down?

I take refuge in poetry
Where poverty blossoms
Women’s feet leave not a print
And the stomach gets drunk on tap water.

Imprisoned in a shed, situated
At the back of my mind I have
Scared life away from me
‘Tis also the case vice-versa
I try to keep a harmonious tongue
But good people? You have
Witnessed for yourselves
Some folk crave a brutal answer.

The primitive man
With qualifications
The sober man
With hallucinations
The right honourable gentleman
With wrong un-honourable expenses
I take refuge in poetry
Squatting between the sentences.

We don’t really know exactly
What we are doing, we just follow
Things and see where it takes us
Never mind purchasing luxury
To even get a smile is all “subject to status”
I take refuge in poetry
Whether written by me the fool
Or them! ... the old sages.

The mind the soul the self the spirit
Whatever you wanna call it ?
Is the greatest arsenal that we have
And you don't put it in to jeopardy    
For any worldly situation...

Check in here ...
https://youtu.be/eOS3C1jq9go

http://youtu.be/IjDfXtaPaHM