DONT DO DRUGS KIDS


O a sis, John cooper clarke.
Pink floyd, getting ****** in the park.
******, crack co caine.
******, messed up again.

Council estate, tmazipan,
******, taliban.
A paper cup and a ball of string,
Ive lost me phone I'll use anythin.

Trying to get hold of my man,
Thames Valley police catch me if u can.
Tried to get the monkey off my back,
fallen down and landed in the crack ..
between the pavements,
easy street,
walking round no shoes on ma feet.
Touch this and you'll get burnt.
Been 20 years and I still havent learnt.

Loosing teeth, bad legs, getting older.
Are the winters getting colder?
Global warming ... What the ****?
****** ..coming in on a salad truck.
Chav pants, naff fkin trainers,
little going on ... no brainers.

Mental health, welfare state,
think your spot on, think your great.
Urban people telling how it is.
Fk me,  took to much whizz.
Walking round, feeling fantastic,
look at me dancing,
pretty tragic really ...

Stupidly asked some bloke to dance,
now im in the back of an amb ulance.
A saturday casualty.
Its an average weekend for me.
Going mad, on a ******.
******* world,
No surrender.

(c) mandy rigby  and p skez 2012)

(now 4 yrs clean .. can i get an Amen?)

Oh, how we strut about the world
We, the civilized population
Unsatisfied until we've unfurled
Blankets of our cultivation

How proud we are of the machines
That gauge and plunder the earths crust
To farm by artificial means
Deemed by the "uncivilized" as unjust

The "uncivilized", those wayward tribes
That naively worship this blue globe
Need alcohol and such like prescribed
To adjust malfunctioning temporal lobes

Can they not observe our contentment
And our superior living standard
They squat and rant with some resentment
We are progressive, they have meandered

I wonder when those of tribal birth
Will mature and see we've got it right
And that their unkempt patch of earth
Will make a fine farm or building site

Or better still, once they're packing
Up their dwellings and  possessions
We can begin some civilised fracking
With our governmental concessions

That's what separates us from them
I hope you have now realised
It is a government controlled by business
That makes us so very civilized

I stoop in the shadow of your majesty
I dare not look at your intelligent eyes
Humbled by your artistic magnifigace
Did it hurt when you fell from the skys

My words are not worthy of your attention
My thoughts, nothing compares to yours
I struggle with bad poetry retention
My script builds walls, yours opens doors

I feel ashamed to have wasted your time
When you could have been creating art
Ashamed of my immature style and rhyme
You exquisite perfume, I a stale old ****.