Uniform- Bloc Party
"There was a sinking disappointment as we left the mall-- all the young people looked the same"

Bought for a Song

All we could ever buy was bought by someone from something
An apparatus of production so maniacal; how could we know
what made our fingers bleed?
It was the sewing and the apprehension our hands holding string
we sat down in the factory but shortly stood up to sing
something forced us, past the window, it was still early
our minds returned to our benches our selves were in the seams
and we laughed, when we died, but it was all in jest
we knew someday we'd give our lives so your dog could own a sequined vest.

The Dog

Your dog's a personality, it's so lovely I'm impressed
It looks so jaunty prancing there, alive its sparkling vest.
Now tell me Baps, who made it? However did you find a sequined silver vest to fit on your canine?

It's really rather simple--it's not even that smart
I bought my dog this lovely vest at the giant mart.

The giant mart? How daring! How intriguing, I declare!
It contrasts very vibrantly with his top hat and black hair.
I tell you Baps, he's precious, look at him standing there!
I can imagine him singing show tunes like the late great
Fred Astaire!

"Yeah, you're right" Baps said, the conversation lingered there.

And I'd like to say what else was said, but frankly I don't care.
I hate these *******' feelings, I don't resemble Fred Astaire.
I wish they take these things off of me.
Dogs don't wear underwear.

A delicious little bakery
is only down our street
the smell of baking bread
well.. it really is a treat

It is run by Mrs ******
she is just so very charming
but she is a little clumsy
it's really quite alarming

You see,
she does her best to make the cakes
and bake such tasty bread
but the currants just go everywhere
and in the pies instead

And in the Cornish pasties
there is very often nuts
and in the fruit pie filling
bacon and beef cuts

But she seems to be quite fancy
well there has been many rumours
of her and the deliveryman
well... she flashes him her bloomers

But she really is so charming
poor soul.. she has the worst mishaps
like when she inadvertently
displayed her finest baps

And no one will forget
when in came a group of nuns
all asking some tea cakes
but out popped her Chelsea buns

But she really is a riot
you can't help but love her so
she give you all you ask for
in a bargain box 'to go'

And she takes care of her customers
and gives out treats to sample
you'll never go home hungry
you'll end up with quite a armful

So if you get a moment
take a stroll just down our street
to Mrs ******'s bakery
she really is a treat.

Colbert always thought , he was a very cool cat

He would spend all his days sprawled out on a mat

He couldn’t be bothered to go and catch mice

As his meals were brought he thought, “mmm” this is nice


But at night he would go and frequent some bars, and

Sit in a corner and smoke hand rolled cigars

His friends would gather around and admire

While coughing up fur ***** by a very warm fire


In his crisp white shirts, and saville row suits

He would avoid all the puddles in his hand stitched boots

With a wide brimmed hat, and sleek black fur, what

The others thought of him he really didn’t care


At the head of the table, he’d sit and just think

Which sleek furry feline would buy him a drink!

While out smoking, drinking and looking for wives

To keep such a night life, he’d need his nine lives


Come the dawn, check his shares and ring his stockbroker

Then swagger to the casino for black jack and poker!

There’s nothing he likes more than a pedicure

But he won’t throw the dice, he might break a claw


While enjoying the champagne and caviar lifestyle

For a cat of his age he isn’t so agile

Unaware in the shadows there’s lurking a rival

A Tom that’s prepared to fight for survival


One night in the club, in the middle of poker

The challenger shouts, “Colbert you’re a joker”

With a hush, onlookers tiptoed to the doors

All fearing the worst, a sharpening of claws


But, Colbert kept his cool and turned on the charm

Sir, I don’t want to fight, and I wish you no harm!

Do you dabble in cards?   Said Colbert with a grin

If  you long for my crown there’s a chance you may win


With a Cheshire cat grin all over his face, the

Challenger dealt at a very fast pace

“Aces high” said Colbert while preening his fur

The challenger looked, and then said “two purr “


Colbert feeling shaken, looking pale and shocked

With tears in his eyes, from his throne he was knocked!

The challenger said, “I’m not Jack the lad”

I had a good teacher in you , you’re my dad!


So Tom the new king, sits at the head of the table

Accepting a drink from a feline called Mable

In front of new friends and his little harem

In casinos and clubs Tom wants to be seen


Not a thought for Colbert, gone and forgotten

But the secret he keeps , is that he dealt from the bottom

Poor Colbert’s on the street begging for scraps

No hand rolled cigars, just half eaten baps


Tom’s putting on weight, but deep down he knows

Out there is a rival, so he keeps on his toes

Colbert’s demise was swift and exact

He spends the rest of his days just a plain alley cat!

??copyright 2011 Daw...

Wide rolls, down the window, they're looking in
Away from the walls, lights off, **** i feel like i never win
But i have to realize, there's only 1 winner, the rest is his dinner
Pleasantly, things have foregone me from me reaching the desert
Am i the main course, or something sweet, (horrible) the dessert?
But i swerve right left,
Write from right to left til the words leave and i feel right
But not for anyone else, just me
Until the quill can only be written in blood for my will
In testament, i digest powers from the unknown
Where do they come from?
Spiritual in a Physical world
Mental in a Cultural world
Why do you all do that?
Descendents descend from the heavens and rise from hell
The ruse is over, we can break it all apart
No it's not a trap, everything can be turned around
This is no race way with a racecar going forever left
If that was right, i would have left this world a lot sooner
If that was true, blood will follow the heros and martyrs
If that was false, happiness would be the easiest thing to obtain
If that was left, then someone else will take it
Monotonous leaves me livid
And boom baps bang better because ******* love it
But why, we teach to love the intricate and shun the fundamentals
Uniqueness is slowly waning, more people popuate the world
They ask you, "how are you different?"
But I've been feeling the same
Since i was a little kid, since i had that big bib
Teeter totter on this stool, toes dangling off
Foreshadowing the rest of my body
But my shadow casts a bigger picture on the scene
Playing with the steering wheel on the highway
Letting go, and it going from left to right,
Ending up sideways
I do do it.
I need to cut it, out.

As glided from separate parts of the Earth into a sea of splinting wood works to build an exceptional story of "yearned for" glamour. We are as one through spirits. As the morning glory of singing chirps fulfill our drums with the booms and baps that awaken us, a smell is rising in our minds.
Of eggs and crackles of bacon.
As younger cookie cutter forms of us, we never knew of our imminent and "promised" future us. Not knowing anything past of what we hoped the year's end would bring. We were of laughter echoed through, what we didnt know, a false home. Only false to those who gave us light. But truth to you and I because our laughter covered the impurity.
As exact opposites of black and white. Or light and dark. We had nothing to tie us but the blood that ran through our veins.
We were destined to be joined by incestuous paths and I remember, as of yesterday, the day you were born. The proud emotion that ran through me, I didnt quite understand at that age but it's an emotion I will never forget. You were my little sister.
The scar above your left eyebrow from falling and busting your head. Or the only time you made my nose bleed. The nights of dancing to the soundtrack Valley Girl. The performances we'd put on. The decorating and fighting of the Christmas tree, which you always won. (It's because you were younger.) Or our snowball fights, the cooking of hot dogs on the wood stove when the power went out. The forts! The most aweeeeeesome forts!
The humorous antics of picking on you, punching you, but first to stand in our two lady army are tiny memories of which I wish we had more. Of which I recall upon when I text you and tell you I miss you.  
As times have moved along with the changing of seasons our lives have drifted. We  the meaning of strangers. I find myself tearing in your absence and wishing we were more than just the same blood in our veins.
I wish we were best friends.
As pages turn in our chapters of dawdling stories, ocean erased footprints, and regrets we say we "dont" regret, we are growing further. Distancing the strain that pulls us together, they werent the only things to divorce.

A few years ago I found a dog wandering the streets on its own.
I went to stroke him and he cowered.

Oh dear, I thought.

Just then, Fat Bertha appeared on the scene,

"You found my dog. Thank you babe."

She kissed me on the cheek and weirdly, squeezed my crotch.

I looked at the dog, who was now wagging his tail, then looked at Bertha's ample baps.

"Well?", she said, "Do you want to come back to mine for your reward?"

I nodded.

We were at it all night.

She's big and round
with baps that bounce
I get ridden by her every night
she's not as **** as Randy Sue
and nowhere near as tight