hellraiser headbanger
time to party with the stranger
on the borderline of danger
troubled times all so fine
corruption is on my mind

been a juvenile delinquent all my life
but i'm still here so i'm doing something right
mama knows she can't handle me
so now she just leaves me be

let go and explode
if you can't handle it don't carry the load
let go and explode
if you can't handle it don't carry the load

take me down to the town
and we'll see just who's around
we will see what's to be seen
you're not as young as you are green
the high class can stick it up their ***
cuz the life for me is always fast
i don't care what they say
i'm gonna do it my own way

let go and explode
if you can't handle it don't carry the load
let go and explode
if you can't handle it don't carry the load

this mutant don't live the norms
i've had my bad habits since i was born
live the style of deviation
authority just tries my patience
songwriter streetfighter
the hangman pulls the knot a little tighter
but only if they can catch me
for tonight i am free

ya know what i hate, classical music, it’s so scary, it’s so cocky

when you have had problems with the police in the past

i feel that there will be people like paul robinson

treating me like steph, ya see, we all have our reasons for doing bad stuff

and if anyone got in their classical music prison cars taking me to hospital

i will be like steph and tell them to ******* because

what paul did to steph was terrible and the fact that he had classical music on

in his car, makes him like a big rich *****

ya see, heavy metal is a better way of getting stuff out

and being noisy, but people can’t except i have grown up

i went down to talk and be friendly to canberra

but they told me, you can’t expect us to like you buddy

ya see while i am watching this i am listening to slayer, a very cool band

because i hate classical music, i like christmas music, but i hate classical music

i like heavy metal music, i hate classical music

you see if i am in a car with somebody who likes classical music

i feel trapped because i am a headbanger

not a rocker, like a ******, i am a headbanger and i like how

heavy metal lovers like christmas carols

if you treat me like steph, i will find out you get what paul got

i am so devious and cunning

but i hate classical music, i like rock music i like party music

i like christmas music, please don’t get me into anymore cars

who play classical music, i can’t get into it, duuuuude

please fire the guy who plays classical music in a car with me in it

classical music is scary if you have had problems in the past

heavy metal isn’t death music, classical music is death music

i am going to get a knife and **** classical music forever

but not literally ya know

anyone that wants to bring what paul did to steph or any other violence into the world

should think about what they are doing

party beats the classics, any day

When I was very young
Certainly pre-school age
I had a little tricycle which I loved
One day
I decided that I could ride it down steps
I was wrong
"Whaaaaaah! Me 'air 'urts!"
"He's banged his head. You're alright
You're not bleeding so shut up skriking."

A day or two later on the same tricycle
Tearing down the hill opposite our house
In the middle of the road
It was a time when cars were rare on council estates
Indeed, ice-cream men rode push-bikes
With big ice boxes on the front containing his wares
And there was one on the road
Of course, I managed to hit it
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!"
"There there, yer alright, lad. Have a free ice-cream."
"Whaaaa - oh, ok."

My parents kept the front gate closed after that
I wasn't tall enough to reach the latch
They wouldn't let me ride my tricycle
Unless there was an adult present
So now that I was safe
I promptly fell over the dog and banged my head on the gate
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!"

                                   By Phil Roberts

When I was very young
Certainly pre-school age
I had a little tricycle which I loved
One day
I decided that I could ride it down steps
I was wrong
"Whaaaaaah! Me 'air 'urts!"
"He's banged his head. You're alright
You're not bleeding so shut up skriking."

A day or two later on the same tricycle
Tearing down the hill opposite our house
In the middle of the road
It was a time when cars were rare on council estates
Indeed, ice-cream men rode push-bikes
With big ice boxes on the front containing his wares
And there was one on the road
Of course, I managed to hit it
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!"
"There there, yer alright, lad. Have a free ice-cream."
"Whaaaa - oh, ok."

My parents kept the front gate closed after that
I wasn't tall enough to reach the latch
They wouldn't let me ride my tricycle
Unless there was an adult present
So now that I was safe
I promptly fell over the dog and banged my head on the gate
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!"

                                   By Phil Roberts

When I was very young
Certainly pre-school age
I had a little tricycle which I loved
One day
I decided that I could ride it down steps
I was wrong
"Whaaaaaah! Me 'air 'urts!"
"He's banged his head. You're alright
You're not bleeding so shut up skriking."

A day or two later on the same tricycle
Tearing down the hill opposite our house
In the middle of the road
It was a time when cars were rare on council estates
Indeed, ice-cream men rode push-bikes
With big ice boxes on the front containing his wares
And there was one on the road
Of course, I managed to hit it
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!"
"There there, yer alright, lad. Have a free ice-cream."
"Whaaaa - oh, ok."

My parents kept the front gate closed after that
I wasn't tall enough to reach the latch
They wouldn't let me ride my tricycle
Unless there was an adult present
So now that I was safe
I promptly fell over the dog and banged my head on the gate
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!"

                                   By Phil Roberts

When I was very young
Certainly pre-school age
I had a little tricycle which I loved
One day
I decided that I could ride it down steps
I was wrong
"Whaaaaaah! Me 'air 'urts!"
"He's banged his head. You're alright
You're not bleeding so shut up skriking."

A day or two later on the same tricycle
Tearing down the hill opposite our house
In the middle of the road
It was a time when cars were rare on council estates
Indeed, ice-cream men rode push-bikes
With big ice boxes on the front containing his wares
And there was one on the road
Of course, I managed to hit it
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!"
"There there, yer alright, lad. Have a free ice-cream."
"Whaaaa - oh, ok."

My parents kept the front gate closed after that
I wasn't tall enough to reach the latch
They wouldn't let me ride my tricycle
Unless there was an adult present
So now that I was safe
I promptly fell over the dog and banged my head on the gate
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!"

                                   By Phil Roberts

When I was very young
Certainly pre-school age
I had a little tricycle which I loved
One day
I decided that I could ride it down steps
I was wrong
"Whaaaaaah! Me 'air 'urts!"
"He's banged his head. You're alright
You're not bleeding so shut up skriking."

A day or two later on the same tricycle
Tearing down the hill opposite our house
In the middle of the road
It was a time when cars were rare on council estates
Indeed, ice-cream men rode push-bikes
With big ice boxes on the front containing his wares
And there was one on the road
Of course, I managed to hit it
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!"
"There there, yer alright, lad. Have a free ice-cream."
"Whaaaa - oh, ok."

My parents kept the front gate closed after that
I wasn't tall enough to reach the latch
They wouldn't let me ride my tricycle
Unless there was an adult present
So now that I was safe
I promptly fell over the dog and banged my head on the gate
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!"

                                   By Phil Roberts

When I was very young
Certainly pre-school age
I had a little tricycle which I loved
One day
I decided that I could ride it down steps
I was wrong
"Whaaaaaah! Me 'air 'urts!"
"He's banged his head. You're alright
You're not bleeding so shut up skriking."

A day or two later on the same tricycle
Tearing down the hill opposite our house
In the middle of the road
It was a time when cars were rare on council estates
Indeed, ice-cream men rode push-bikes
With big ice boxes on the front containing his wares
And there was one on the road
Of course, I managed to hit it
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!"
"There there, yer alright, lad. Have a free ice-cream."
"Wha- oh, ok."

My parents kept the front gate closed after that
I wasn't tall enough to reach the latch
They wouldn't let me ride my tricycle
Unless there was an adult present
So now that I was safe
I promptly fell over the dog and banged my head on the gate
"Whaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!"

                                   By Phil Roberts

Talk to me about flowers and fires.
The orchids
of our collected youths
are bleeding into rose water
and being smashed into books.
For a little look
like a picture stretched under a slide
hiding, elfin to run back away from us.

In the hearth of us we wonder
what the charcoal will draw next.
Sticks on the banks of the styx
In it’s flicking midst
I can almost see
the little beat-less heart
in the center of the cherry.
It’s like it’s still held still in pursed lips.

In a falling little flame
accidently spilling it.

Out in Saturday mornings.
Out of school
so sliding in our nose rings.
Skiving by lying
with fist rubbed eyeballs.
The swell,
Then the classic sweetness
of the re-sleep.

Marker pen graffiti.
Feeling like elitists
because we don’t like elitists.
Defeatist is in right now, love's yet a fable.
(Planets are *****) on physics tables,
and writings on my hands,
but **** it man,
I won’t remember them, anyway.

Blurry nameless kisses
tasting like French lager,
or is that me?
Bellybutton shots.
Love at a coin toss
or against a brick wall was at it's best.
But there’s room for two
in this tent full of burn-holes.

Iron maiden.
never paid but
in microphone coldness
on the lips.
Lifted on the fix.
Giving the week in a night
and taking the night for a week,
with velocity.

Headbanger’s neck on
the pen-bottle ****, being used,
being used up.
Swimming against the river.
Golden Virginia,
Sobranies in the bus shelter.
And as the day's screen goes over
we still kept the bonfire
running in the rain.

That's what talks to me.
I'm laying back,
but moving forwards,
involuntarily.

i bang my head against the wall for a living
and it’s no coincidence
that’s what i do with my free time as well
i must love it

Always the mind
Of a younger man
Mine
Has become suddenly
A much older one’s
Spine

while the western world "demands" an interest in metaphysics, the other benzene-ring avenue opens up... oh... there's an orthography? that's ******* paranormal!

the demographic concern of
democracy...
     the law is only
         cocerned with object-
   subject
               interaction...
       and then you still get to
mow the lawn...
                ******* cosmo pike...
****** with an off-shoot
challenging a *mahican
            you gonna be
a ******* meat-head
headbanger
                    all of a sudden?!
          work the slourtherhouse?
good moo to you...
          petting animals
makes it hard to
suddenly wake up and say:
**** it, let's ****
us a cow...
       ever listen to a cow
being towed into
           a slaughterhouse?!
you learn to sniff and spy
and become abject
about ******* use...
        what the quran isn't
completed with is...
well... it is...
dictionary: quran...
and the thesaurus
             composed of hadith...
ever listen to a cow
being towed into
a slaughterhouse as a child?
         you can decipher
the "cipher" of the primitive
sound like you can
later evaluate friendships
in order to not make them...
             sure,
plato was gay,
   aristotle was autistic...
        and the common parlace
leads us into kant was
a bachelor...
     sartre had a public
funeral
               procession...
and the ***** region
adverse to ****** hair as
law of the jungle is: where?
  i have to stage dyslexia
being a phenomenon
of a language that does
not employ orthography...
       or a concern for
said practice...
                     you can
have metaphysics, sure,
you can learn all about that,
and the paranormal...
       but when it comes
to the benzene third direction
via the tunnel of ortho-?
   keep clapping...
    because this avenue is
closed off for you...
   you will never get
the grafitti orthography joke
of huj vs. chuj...
                well, you might:
if you interest me in
   the "grapheme" of
              siamese consonants
equivalent to a "rule"
                of: very little.
- a "concept" of a snake
makes more sense
with a lazy slightering S,
          or a king cobra Z?
prior to the motiff of X-ray...
there was "X-ray"...
                but i'll still call
that western metaphysics asks
why eastern physics also
employs orthography,
        with not meta- avenue available...
and when...
     the two polar factions
have to base their functionability
on what's para-,
                       hey, black gold of
arabia, the t-rex bites back...
                 it really does help
throwing ash into the Ganges
   hoping for the river to turn into
a stone, and morph
the ash back into a motivational
"excuse"...
                   what i shouldn't?
well... i certainly shouldn't
hold back urinating,
    with due imitation to
a pregnant woman,
         or if i had a tape-worm...
    feeding my bladder the pressure
to stand like a tree,
   beholding an apple-sized
bulging ***** in my body...
       or as i like to call it:
relaxing... while taking
a ****.