The old man sat, his legs crossed,
opposite the young boy, in the dirt.
"See dat fella?" he said pointing at a tree,
"Dat fella's yer brother, yer big brother."
The boy turned and looked at the tree.
"He's a livin' fella just like you are,
I remember when he was a little fella,
just like you're a little fella now."
The old man smiled, "He's a good fella."
he continued "he'll give ya his bark,
fer yer to make shelter and his branches,
fer yer to make fire when it's cold."

"Dat one dare! Can ya see da bush?"
he asked "Dat bush, dat one your aunty,
when you're hungry she will give ya berries.
See dem little ones?" pointing at the flowers,
"Dem ones they are ya sisters." He announced,
"Dem one's bring you beauty and brightness,
dem ones are de girls dat make us all happy."
The old man laughed showing the gaps in his teeth.
Pointing up he said "Look at dat fella up dare!
Dat fella he carries the sun around ter keep us warm,
an' when dat fella cries he fills our water holes,
dat fella he's our friend he lights candles at night,
so us fellas can find our way back to our womin."

"And what about you grandfather? What are you?"
The boy asked as he looked up at the old man.
"Me!" replied the grandfather "I guess I am da bringer.
I'm dat fella that brings these stories to yer,
so yer can understand that the country is our family,
it is alive like we are and that joins us together."
The old man tapped a twig, he was holding, on his foot.
"When the wind has blown my skin off and I am,
only a white stick laying in the desert sand,
yer will be the one who will look after dis family."
he said. "Then yer will become da bringer."

(c) 31/03/2010

he's a superstitious fella,
that's the rumour people throw around.
he often sits inside, twiddling his thumbs,
thinking of what could possibly go wrong.

there are whispers around town,
questions in media about how he acts.
people always talk about him,
and wonder if he'll ever admit it.

most say no, many say yes
and almost everyone, always
just says to ask.

but he's a superstitious fella,
that's the rumour that's true.
he sits inside, twiddles his thumbs,
plays with his hair and straightens his back.

their questions and thoughts about what he is
float around as he thinks about what everyone is saying
and wonders what could possibly go wrong.

a superstitious fella could never sit outside
in the coffee shop with his friends
or a bowling alley with his family.

but this superstitious fella is unique indeed,
because he sits inside and wishes the day away.
this superstitious fella bites his tongue and cheek,
because this superstitious fella is me.

Hello there little fella
Why do you look so awfully glum
Is there a reason behind that tiny little frown
Why are your eyes so glassy and bright
What can be the reason you look so down

Where is that huge smile I used to see on you
Where is that loud laugh which fills up the room
Where is that tiny little hops in your steady walk
Where is that cheeky glint of mischief shining in your eyes

Hey there, hey there little dear fella
Come now come here and let yourself free
Don't sit gloomily there in that dark dusty corner
Let me be the ears to whatever your heart dismays

No. No. That can't be true
You're wrong. It can't be. No. No
You're imagining it. Its never true
You don't know what you're saying. No. No. No

Don't cry now little fella. There, there
There, there. Do wipe those poor tears
Don't let them fall. Don't let them flow
This too shall pass. This too shall go

You will be fine now little fella
You will be ok
You will get through this
You will be walking your way

This hug you are in now, it will always remain
This strength you feel now, it will always be there
This courage you hold now, it will always stay
This love you have now, it will always be yours

Always

The evil witch is after the 11 year olds


Once upon a time there was an evil witch,, and this witch was like no witch i n any fairy tales, no this witch was pure evil, you see she took pride in grabbing 11 year old kids avid locking themselves in the basement to eventually chop them up and put them in an oven, to give herself a feast, the first kid was young a 11 year old boy named Tommy Kinarfis and he was on his way to school and he was just minding his own business when this black car pulled up and before Tommy could run away, the witch grabbed him and shoved him in the boot of his car and being as scared as he was, Tommy really didn't want to die, and tried to bang the the walls of the boot to show that he has been kidnapped but nobody heard him and before he knew it, he found himself locked up in a cage being fattened up, so the witch can eat him up, and after about 12 hours Tommy was dead, and the witch was happy, the next kid was 11 year old daughter of president Frederick Leonardo, you see this president was so conservative and everyone was too scared to do anything bad to his kid, but one day when the presidents daughter, who was named Terri was waiting for her body guard after school when this car turned up and this man got out pretending to be her bodyguard one day, and after 2 hours of driving Terri realised that she has been kidnapped, and then the bodyguard took off his nice disguise and when Terri noticed it was the witch, she tried to escape but soon enough she was locked in her cage being fattened up, so the witch can enjoy her feast, and the presidents daughter Terri was dead and the president had a little burial for her.
The next kid was 11 year old Peter Vernin and he was a kid who loves sport, especially the AFL, because that was a boys sport, and Peter had it in his mind that because he played AFL, he will he invincible but as he was going to footy training, he had to walk because his parents had to work, a ******* car pulled up and this man pulled up and asked Peter if he would like a ride, and Peter, being only 11 said yes thinking he was being treated like a kid that everyone liked, but then he found himself chained up in the witch's basement ready to be slaughtered at any given time, you see because Tommy had muscles, that was enough to make him be nice and tender to eat and when the witch finds out that he had suffered enough, then the witch will cook Tommy up and before he knew it, Tommy was just a corpse and the witch was feeling very happy and this made her feel she can slowly get rid of each child as soon as they reached 11, and she was feeling like nobody will ever stop her from accomplishing this feat.
The FBI are having a hard time trying to find there missing kids because they just vanished without a trace, but they had every officer and forensic investigator in to try to catch the witch and make her pay, mind you the FBI were unaware that the persons responsible is a wicked evil witch.
The next kid was Raymond Terrestal, an 11 year old who was in a broken home and every day he went to the local shops to buy milk for the family but also he would occasionally steal a chocolate bar and also a few flavoured milks, and the witch said to herself that this boy needs to chopped him up and watch his shiny white legs slowly turn to very tasty meat. Even though Raymond put up a fight, saying you can't chop me up, fella, I am a sports boy and I have heaps of muscles, but the witch told him that the muscles make him even more tastier, and she wants to have Raymond to really taste nice so he can really get away from any way of being a sports boy, and as Raymond was cooking, he is yelling and yelling, saying, let me go, I am a big tough sports boy, I like playing footy, I don't wanna die, let me go and leave me alone old witch, but the witch said heh heh heh hen heh, no buddy you ain't a cool kid, all the other kids are tough, but you Raymond, no you are all mine, and Raymond was screaming, please save me from the wicked witch, And he also said why me, why me, why me, and the witch said, no mate your not like us,mate
You are still a little shy boy, and I am just doing what The Lord wants, you see Raymond, The Lord wants me to cook boys up when they turn 11, because then they are even more tender because they are mature enough so I get a good tasty bit of human flesh, and eventually Raymond died and the witch continued on her journey to rid the world of kids right till they turn 11 years of age.
The next kid was 11 years old Naomi Roberts who was a really family and friends type of girl and she very rarely strayed away., but one day she and her friends played outside the witch's house, because it was a pretty good place for kids to play in but unknown to Naomi that her friends were playing a trick on her and had planned to get her stuck in the bushes near the mail box and when the witch went outside to see what the noise was, she saw Naomi stuck in the garden trying to break free, and the witch used her powers to make her look like a nice old lady and brought Naomu inside to keep her safe, then the witch showed her true colours and told Naomi that she will never escape from her, and she also said she is hosting a dinner party and Naomi is the main course and from the moment she said that Naomi started to get scared and screamed and screamed for the witch to let her go, she also said it's not she that the witch wants, it's her friends, who stabbed Naomi in the back and the witch said, no they are young women and I don't want to **** young women, it's you, who I want, little girlie, and you are never going to ever escape from me, and Naomi said no Mrs Witch, you will be with me till my dinner party and then Naomi you will be no more. You will leave this world never to return little baby little girlie, Naomi is very scared and starts to feel like her perfect world is about to end because the wicked witch has her right where she wants her.
Naomi was trying to scream so loud that the witch's neighbour would hear and come and rescue her but nobody can hear her and Naomi starts to get very scared, so scared in fact, she tried to fight her way out of the cage but it is closed so tightly and Naomi is starting to get scared because still the FBI have no leads on the whereabouts of these kids, and despite being bullied by the parents of the missing kids, they feel tempted to give up the search till they get a lead, simply because there is no point in trying to find a needle in a haystack, but the parents wanted them to find their missing kids, even if it means they have to become vigilantes and defy the law and find those kids themselves, meanwhile the next day in the witch's house, the witch was starting to cook Naomi up so they can have their dinner party, a nice tasty little girl for dinner, heh heh heh heh heh heh heh, and when Naomi was slowly dying the witch kept of stirring and stirring to make Naomi really suffer, you see for the witch, well, she took pride in torturing kids as soon as they turn 11, and then Naomi died and the witch was happy and said that is another 11 year old under our belt, heh heh heh heh heh
The next kid was 11 year old Pat Roberts, who was a cool boy who loved to tease so much that he would take people away from their families to do so, unless they do as they do and one day he gave up playing football with the tough boys to tease a boy who he hates very much, and stop him from being a family person and also brainwashing everyone into thinking a family person is supposed to do as they are told, and one day the wicked witch who really wanted to keep taking these boys decided to go after Pat Roberts and cook him up and then she will get rid if this boy from the would once and for all, but getting rid of Pat Roberts will be a hard thing because this boy is so hard to catch, because he is ever so smart, and it will be a battle to get rid of this Pat Roberts because of that, Pat Roberts would say, no mr witch, you can't catch me fella, you can never catch me for as long as you'll alive, and you are going to die soon if you keep catching kids anyway, the next day on the witch's quest to catch Pat Roberts, she decided to use her ***** magic to try and lure him to his house but Pat Roberts is too smart for that as he kept himself inside saying no witch is going to get me, if you are going to catch me, you'll have to get past my father and I can guarantee old witch that my dad has the power to put you right in her place, you are mrs witch, you haven't got the power to overcome me, so come on wicked witch, just you try and catch me, but you won't get me, I can make you suffer of you try and get me ya wicked witch and the wicked witch straight away thought maybe one day I will catch Pat Roberts, I will try and take some other 11 year olds and the next 11 year old was Gordon Gullet and he was a boy who was a bit of a black sheep who went on a mission to **** the wicked witch but when the wicked witch captured him, but she had no plan to cook him  up, actually she planned to try to get him on side to catch Pat Roberts and when Gordon said, I won't tell you where Gordon is, I will never tell you where he is. Just let me go ya old cranky wicked witch, and because Gordon was talking too much the witch put her hand on her mouth, she eventually had to put sticky tape on it and then the wicked witch said, if you don't tell me where Pat Roberts is, you'll suffer, and I mean you'll suffer, mate, suffer forever mate.
The next day when the witch got up and saw Gordon trying up escape and the witch said, mate, you'll never escape from me, no you'll never escape, until you tell me where is your friend Pat Roberts, and Gordon said no, I won't ever tell ya, you will have to **** me first, Pat Roberts is a friend, no, I will never ever tell you, ya wicked witch, and the witch said no I ain't going to **** you, I just want you to tell you where Pat Roberts is, why won't you tell me, I will be your friend forever, and Gordon said, no, I won't tell you anything you old fucken witch, and you can do to me anything you want, I will never ever tell you, you mean nasty old witch.
The witch then said, ok, you will stay there in that cage till you tell me and when you are ready to tell me where your friend Pat Roberts is, I will make you suffer, even if I don't **** you, you will be suffering without anything to make you keep your mojo in tact, you will suffer Gordon, I will make sure of that, so unless you tell me where your mate is, you will suffer, and be kept there until you tell us of the whereabouts of Pat Roberts because I want you and him to cooked together and eaten, and if you don't tell me, I will keep you here for the rest of your life, so Gordon are you going to tell me and Gordon yells out with a loud voice, which went,  NEVER, my mate Pat Roberts wants to tease people who are trying to work to hard and push themselves into breaking point, and I want you to let me go, because I am tougher that you, cause you are a mean nasty witch, who should burn on the planet Mercury and the witch said no, mate, say hell, you see you are still a little Christian boy, and while you have your beliefs that you will die one day, you are like us, but if I find out that you are keeping the whereabouts of Pat Roberts from me, I will hold you at knife point and force you to tell you and Gordon said no, I will never tell you, never, I will prefer to do die myself, rather than tell you where he is mate.
The next day the witch went out to try and catch Pat Roberts and then Pat's dad said to Pat Roberts that he will protect him and when they heard a strange noise outside their house and it was the wicked witch, who was lurking about outside and when Pat Roberts went outside, the witch put a hand over his mouth and said I have you mate and then the FBI came and despite a desperate fight to get herself free, the FBI took off to Salem to get burnt at the stake and Pat Roberts and Gordon was safely going home with his family and the witch was reincarnated as a pig and then a tiger and after that a deer, she suffered, especially when she will be constantly bullied by hunters.

Is to be told all the ways you don't matter
It is to be angry and afraid
It is to watch people walk on the opposite side of the street to avoid you
It is to be told to get over slavery
It is to be told that I'm not racist I have black friends
It is to be told the definition of racism like you don't already know
It is to be told hey what about reverse racism
It is to have a white terrorist group dedicated to your elimination
It is to be more worried about threats in your own country and those abroad
It is to wonder daily if your family will be safe, if they will get to come home
It is to called a **** for speaking out against the hate
It is to be called lazy when you work full time to provide for your family
It is to walk past folks and watch as the clench their purse or pockets
It is to be to have people fear you, when you feel more threatened then they ever could
It is to be told that privilege doesn't exist
It is to be told you are equal, except you know that in the courtroom, in the eyes of the law, the job market, the housing market, in the classroom, it is a ****** lie
It is to be live in a world where 1 in 3 black men are in prison
It is to know that they have sentences longer than white counterparts
It is to know they use prison labor to exploit them, slavery living on
It is to know that the police which are a relief for some, are a nightmare for you
It is to know that you can do everything right and be killed by someone sworn to protect you
It is to know that you will be blamed for your death inspite of this
It is to have the life choked out of you and a man telling you, **** your breathe
It is to hear what about black on black crime, even though every race commuts crime against their own kind the most
It is to remember white flight and the repercussions of it
It is to have family who have seen the bloodiness of the covil rights movement
It is to be taught in school how great this country is while ignoring the evil its done
It is to be taught in school how little you meant
It is to wake up every 2 weeks to another hashtag of some poor black fella to be forgot in a week
It is to want to simply be acknowledged that things arent right, and being ignored to this day
It is to be villianized in the media
It is to see that flag everyone holds dear and remember that pain it caused you
It is to fight and die for a country that still doesn't care about you
It is to be told to go back to Africa as if this wasnt stolen land
It is to be told I dont see you as black, you're just the same to me
It is to be told well you don't count as black, you don't act black
It is to have your culture stolen
It is to have value placed on your mysic and style and not your skin
It is to hear what would MLK think about these protest
It is to remember that people celebrated his assassination
It is to remember the slurs and the hate he recieved
It is to have people know they don't want to be treated the way you are
It is to want whats always been denied, the privilege of walking in your own skin without fear of persecution
It is to see family, friends and peers celebrate and share racist ideas and beleifs
It is being reassured they still value you
It is to know but not enough to matter

Being black in America is a lot of things, and I love the country all the same.

But I hope and pray for the day, that we can be treated the same.

Blanket city run along soaked in rain. Idiot Boy wastes his time visiting a passing crush at the other end of town. Slips between two houses and a metal sheet, communal refrigerator in the middle of the road filed with half-empty soy bottles.

Dead bell stop, mocking red blink of the operator. Father arrives, a mess of wiry muscles and hair.

“Hey. Is Coffin Cat here?”

“Who?” Father squints at Idiot Boy’s cap. Idiot Boy avoids eye contact.

“Um.”

Recessed in the blackness behind Father, a Figure says, “You looking for Coffin Cat?”

Idiot Boy nods.

The Recessed Figure turns. “I’ll go get her.”

Father returns to his parched body on the couch, content.

Indistinguishable forms move back and forth in the kitchen to the right. They stop their pacing and glance at Idiot Boy as he passes. Idiot Boy avoids eye contact and slips into the left-bound arterial vessel.

“So this is the heart chamber I’ve been living in,” Coffin Cat says as Idiot Boy enters her room. There is music gear. “It’s pretty comfy.”

“Oh, sick mic,” Idiot Boy says, pointing at the mic behind Coffin Cat’s head.

“I feel like a ghost,” Coffin Cat replies, falling on her bed.

Idiot Boy settles next to her. Animal distance. Intensely aware of his rain-soaked right shoe. “Same.”

Nothing comes out right, intersubjectivity a false God to mediate the impossible kernel of being, nobody can find nor express. Idiot Boy searches for connection. He glances around the heart chamber, at the music gear, but nothing grips. Four pears sit on a table by the window, their skins garish green in the harsh grey light.

Coffin Cat moves from the bed to the floor. She opens a virtual aquarium on her computer; fish eat pellets dropped from the sky to **** out coins to buy more fish to **** out coins to buy more fish. Capitalist investment and accumulation. Every few minutes a rocket-spewing robot teleports into the aquarium to attack the fish. Ruthless competition in the global marketplace.

“No! Why would you swim there, you ******* fish?” Coffin Cat yells as one if her fish is eaten by the nomadic war machine. “So dumb. ****. Why did it eat my fish?”

A knock at the door. The Recessed Figure from earlier enters the room. “Hey, mind if I join?” Their arms dangle like fine threads of hair.

“I like your music gear,” Idiot Boy says, pointing at nothing in particular.

“Idiot Boy also makes music,” Coffin Cat adds from the floor.

The Recessed Figure does not respond. They are enthralled by their phone, streak of dead pixels along a digital chessboard, minute reflection of their own gaunt face in the glass. After an extended period, they decide to move none of their pieces. A gaping coffee grinder rises out of the rubble at their feet. They begin filling it with tobacco from broken cigarettes.

“I’m surprised you’re still playing this,” Idiot Boy says to Coffin Cat. “I swear this is one of those games designed to ruin your life. Get addicted, stop going to work, become a hikik weaboo.”

“Already there, man,” Coffin Cat laughs. “Nah, this is my new job. I’m going to be a professional gamer.”

“Stream only PopCap games.”

Another knock at the door. Tired squander in an endless pacing of flesh. Strawman enters and nods at the Recessed Figure. “Hey bro.”

“Good to see you, man.” The Recessed Figure plugs the coffee grinder into the wall. “You got any ciggys?”

Idiot Boy points under the table and says “Ahh” with his mouth.

The Recessed Figure empties it into the coffee grinder. The device whirs into motion, creating a centrifugal blur, a mechanical and headless hypnotic repeat.

Idiot Boy and Coffin Cat look for horror movies to watch. The Recessed Figure empties the contents of the coffee grinder onto a metal tray. Strawman repacks it into a ****. White smoke fills the empty column, moves in slow motion like an oceanic rip a mile off coast, surface seething with quiet, impenetrable violence.

Idiot Boy refuses the first round. It’s never done him any good. Face turned to smoke and the wretched weight of a tongue that refuses to speak. Headless carry-on as time ticks through the clock face.

The door bursts open. Everybody turns as Manic Refusal or the Loud Person saunters in.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t ******* believe it. They’re selling me off!” the Loud Person says in exasperation. “First time back in New Zealand in five years and they do this to me!”

“What? What’s happened?” Strawman asks.

“Some rich ****** in Australia has bought me as his wife. I knew it, I knew if I came back, my parents wouldn’t let me leave again. Whole ******* thing arranged!” the Loud Person laughs bitterly, before hitting the ****.

“Oomph, that’s rough,” Coffin Cat quips from the side.

“No, you don’t even understand. This is the first time back, the first time back in five years, and I’m being sold to off some rich ****** who owns all the banks in Australia.”

“But like, who is this guy?” Strawman asks, pointing.

“And he’s been reading all my profiles. He has access to all my information. I don’t even have control over my Facebook profile. Grand Larson’s logged in as me, posting for me,” the Loud Person continues. “I met him once in Australia, clubbing, and now he’s tracked and bought me.”

“That’s creepy as ****,” Idiot Boy says.

“So he’s not a complete stranger?” Strawman asks.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t ******* believe it. First time back in five years and I’m being sold off!”

Idiot Boy decides one hit from the **** wouldn’t be so bad. He packs the cone with chop, lights and inhales. Smoke rushes through the glass channel, a swirl of white ether, more than he’d expected. He quickly passes the **** to Coffin Cat, before collapsing onto the bed, eyes closed. A suffocating sensation fills his body. He sinks into the chasm of himself, further and further into an impossible, infinite depth.

“Still working at . . . ?”

“Yeah, yeah. Management. Hospital. You?”

“Like, property. Motions.”

“Subcontracting? Intonements?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Mmm.”

Idiot Boy doesn’t know what’s going on. He feels sick and tries to get Coffin Cat’s attention, but cannot move his body.

“Come on. Sell me drugs, Strawman.”

“Nah. I don’t deal drugs. I don’t deal drugs.”

A strange silence stretches like an artificial dusk, a liminal duration, the hollow click of a tape set back into place in reverse. The Recessed Figure coughs and the Loud Person whirs back into motion.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t ******* believe it. They’re selling me off! First time back in New Zealand in five years and they do this to me!”

The Recessed Figure makes a noncommittal noise.

“I knew it, I knew if I came back, my parents wouldn’t let me leave again. Whole ******* thing arranged!”

Coffin Cat laughs quietly.

“No, you don’t even understand. This is the first time back, the first time back in five years, and I’m being sold off to some rich ****** who owns all the banks in Australia.”

“How about this fella? He doing okay?” Strawman asks, pointing. Everyone turns to Idiot Boy and laughs affectionately.

“Still working at . . . ?”

“Yeah, yeah. Management. Hospital. You?”

“Like, property. Motions.”

“Subcontracting? Intonements?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Mmm.”

“Sell me drugs, Strawman.”

“Nah. I don’t deal drugs. I don’t deal drugs.”

Idiot Boy slowly opens his eyes and stares out the window. The same grey light as before. He moves his arm further towards Coffin Cat, but is still too weak to get her attention. The same strange silence stretches. The Recessed Figure coughs and the Loud Person whirs back into motion.

“I can’t believe it. I can’t ******* believe it. . . .”

As the conversation repeats over and again, Idiot Boy begins to think he has become psychotic, or perhaps entered into a psychotic space. He thinks of computer algorithms, input-output, loops without variables, endless regurgitations of the same result. Human machines trapped in their own stupid loop. Drug-****** neuronal networks incapable of making new connections, forever traversing old ones. Short-term memory loss, every repeat a new conversation of what has already been. The same grey light painted upon four pears by the window.

He’s not sure if Coffin Cat’s laugh is getting weaker with each repeat.

Signal-response. The exterior world oversaturated with variables: roadways, rivers, forests, wildlife — an ever changing scene to respond to — the illusion of depth. Automatic response mechanisms reorient to new stimuli. The soul rises like surfactant, objectified fractal diffusion. A becoming without end.

But within the border of this interior world, the light stays grey. No input, no change; the same dead repeat, over and over, until sundown triggers a hunger response. Lined all along the street, a black box ceremony of repeating machines, trapped in their idiot cults, walls of clay and blood.

Idiot Boy finally gets Coffin Cat’s attention. She helps him through the house’s arteries to reach rain and wet stone, overcast skies. As he shakes in shock, Coffin Cat mumbles, “It’s cold.”

Idiot Boy sits silent on the ride home. Travels through himself. Tunnel through the body or Mariana Trench. Loses his footing before a traumatic void. Leaves the car and pukes.

the allan family story, HAPPY NEW YEAR



brian allan was getting bored with what his family was doing on nye

so he went to his room and played a nye show and each song was cool

the first song was poison’s nothing but a good Now Listen
Not a dime, I can't pay my rent
I can barely make it through the week
Saturday night I'd like to make my girl
But right now I can't make ends meet

I'm always workin' slavin' every day
Gotta get a break from that same old same old
I need a chance just to get away
If you could hear me think this is what I'd say

[Chorus]
Don't need nothin' but a good time
How can I resist
Ain't lookin' for nothin' but a good time
And it don't get better than this

They say I spend my money on women and wine
But I couldn't tell you where I spent last night
I'm really sorry about the shape I'm in
I just like my fun every now and then

I'm always workin' slavin' every day
Gotta get a break from that same old same old
I need a chance just to get away
If you could hear me think this is what I'd say

[Chorus]

You see I raise a toast to all of us
Who are breakin' our backs every day
If wantin' the good life is such a crime
Lord, then put me away
Here's to ya

[Chorus: x3]

and brian allan who was being told by his dad and mum to quieten down decided to play

a kylie minogue song, got to be certain
"Got To Be Certain"

[1a:]
You keep on asking me
Why can't we be together
I keep saying won't you wait a while
What's all the hurry
I thought we had forever
I just need time 'til I can make up my mind

[1b:]
I'm not asking for
A love to last forever
I don't expect to get a guarantee
It's just that I believe
Lovers should stick together
I'm only saying
Won't you wait for me

[CHORUS:]
I've got to be
Got to be certain
I've got to be so sure
I've had my share of hearts broken
And I don't wanna take that any more

[2a:]
I've got some friends who say
Boys are all the same
They're only looking out for just one thing
I'm only hoping that
You won't turn out like that
I need some time 'til I can make up my mind

[2b:]
Been hurt in love before
But I still come back for more
I was such a fool
I couldn't stop myself
If you believe in me
If you want our love to be
I know you'll wait for me, oh, oh, oh, oh

[CHORUS:]

[BRIDGE:]
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh

[1b:]

[CHORUS:]
[repeat & fade]

you see brian allan was really having a ball but still he couldn’t control his loud voice

but brian allan said, he really wants to celebrate nye this day so he went to the allan’s fridge

and got a can of coke and sang this song


Another Saturday night
By: Jimmy Buffett

Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

I got in town a month ago
I've seen a lot of girls since then
If I could meet 'em I could get 'em
But as yet I haven't met 'em
That's why I'm in the shape I'm in

Oh, another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

Now another fella told me
He had a sister who looked just fine
Instead of being my deliverance
She had a strange resemblance
To a cat name Frankenstein

Oh, another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had some chick to talk to
I'm in an awful way

Yeah, another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

It's ******* a fella
When he don't know his way around
If I don't find me a honey
To help me spend this money
I'm headin' back to key west town

Oh, another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way

Just another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had some chick to talk to
I'm in an awful way

It's awful, all dressed up and no place to go, no one to help me spend
My flow, another Saturday night, get me the pizza man.
Songwriters: COOKE, SAM
Another Saturday Night lyrics © Abkco Music, Inc.




and then brian allan said, i want to be convicted of love in the first degree and i will open this can of coke and party all over his bedroom and make
mr and mrs allan say stop playing this loud music brian

"Love In The First Degree"

Last night I was dreaming
I was locked in a prison cell
When I woke up I was screaming
Calling out your name (whoa)

And the judge and the jury
They all put the blame on me (the blame on me)
They wanna tell from my story
They want to hear my plea

Only you can set me free
'Cause I'm guilty (guilty)
Guilty as a girl can be
Come on baby, can't you see
I stand accused
Of love in the first degree

(Guilty) Of love in the first degree

Someday I'm believing
You will come to my rescue
Unchain my heart, you'll keep him
Let me start a new (you)

The hours passed so slowly
Since they've thrown away the key (away the key)
Can't you see that I'm lonely
Won't you help me please

Only you can set me free
'Cause I'm guilty (guilty)
Guilty as a girl can be
Come on baby, can't you see
I stand accused
Of love in the first degree

(Guilty) Of Love in the first degree

(Guilty)
Of Love

(Guilty)
Of Love in

(Guilty) Of Love

(Guilty) Of Love in

(Guilty)
Of love in the first degree

And the judge and the jury
They all put the blame on me
They wanna tell from my story
They wanna hear my plea

Only you can set me free
'Cause I'm guilty (Guilty)
As a girl can be
Come on baby, can't you see
I stand accused
Of love in the first degree


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and then brian allan looked at his clock radio and saw the time was 11:45 and brian

allan played the air guitar really loudly to run to paradise



Baby, you were always gonna be the one
You only ever did it just for fun
But you run to paradise
Jenny, I'll meet you at the grocery store
You don't need a friend when you can score
You run to paradise

Johnny, we were always best of friends
Stick together and defend
But you run to paradise
And mamma, now don't you worry 'bout me anymore
And I see you crying at the door
When I run to paradise

That's right, they had it all worked out
You were young and blonde
And you could never do wrong
That's right, they were so surprised
You opened their eyes up
(Opened their eyes up)
Opened their eyes up

[Chorus]
You don't want anyone
(You don't, you don't, open your eyes up)
You don't want anyone
(You don't, you're no fool)
Don't tell me, this is paradise
(Open your eyes up)
You don't want anyone
(You don't, open your eyes up)
You don't want anyone
(You don't, you're no fool)
Don't tell me, this is paradise

Good times, why'd I let 'em slip away
Why'd I let them slip away
'Cause I lived in paradise
Run to paradise
Run to paradise
Run to paradise

Jesus says it's gonna be alright
He's gonna pat my back
So I can walk in the light (that's right)
You don't mind if I abuse myself
So I can hold my head up
(Hold my head up)
Hold my head up

[Chorus]

You don't want anyone
(You don't, hold my head up)
You don't want anyone
(You don't, you're no fool)
Don't tell me, this is paradise
(Open your eyes up)
You don't need anyone
(Open your eyes up)
You don't need anyone
You'll tell me, this is paradise

[Chorus x2]
brian allan then was counting down to midnight and sang auld lent zine and his parents came in and opened the door and
said HAPPY NEW YEAR

Mín trega rapul við vegur av vatnast,
og blóðig gráta niðast báði og mín føvningur.
Mín glæstri oygdur svíkja mín ektaður grunur,
for Í føla so dimmi, álvuligur.
Innan Í skjóla.
Og innan har, Í fella burt, sum um Í hava tær doyggja,
og fella, um enn sum a dreygur fella.

Tú bjarga meg frá sjálvur.
Innan mín dimmi dagur, tú kom for meg.
Mín lethe. Mín ást. Mín vindrongur.
Takkar.

~Translation~

My pain falls by way of tears of water from my eyes,
and ****** tears down both of my arms.
My shining eyes betray my true thoughts,
for I feel so dark, not very happy.
Inside I hide.
And in there, I swooned away, as if I had been dying,
and fell away, even as a dead body falls.

You save me from myself.
In my darkest days, you came for me.
My lethe. My love. My friend.
Thank you.


(Inspired by Turid Torkilsdottir by Tyr and also one small part taken from "Dante's Inferno" The Epic Poem.)