Pain is now within the mind of man
For he will spread his evil as far as he can
From the TV tube to the radio news
Blah blah blah – someone’s views
When I see the decay hanging on the wall
Brushed past it all before their fall
It makes me feel like crying
Joy is unheard of as man rises from the tomb
When in reality he is going back to the womb
Life holds nothing for man now
Still, it makes me cry somehow
*The Week That Was – 10th September 1984
10th September 1984
Went to Three Legged Cross. Dominic’s. Watched Bladerunner (crap) and Christine (good) at James’.
12th September 1984
Went to sign on, on school bus.
13th September 1984
Doing dares around Gaunts. Did hundreds of things.
14th September 1984
Got amp back.
15th September 1984
Trying to organise practice for tomorrow. Found out I get £16.50. Princess Diana 2nd son born. WOW-E-WOO. Had a crease up around Gaunts.
16th September 1984
Mark, Jez and Fog came over. Got stopped. So went to Scramble meeting down the road. Came back and got stopped again. Went round Scramble track. Shirley’s here – old slag. Perry broke a telephone box window so we scarpered.
At The Moment – 10th September 1984
This whole fuckin’ place is one gurt big fuckin’ shithole
At the moment
And unless we change it
It always will be
One gurt big fuckin’ shithole
27th June 2023 – Always looking on the bright side, the angsty teenager
Myra’s Revenge – 9th September 1984
The glass has smashed
Personalities clashed
The knife splits your skin
And dives on in
Myra’s revenge
Pointing the barrel
At the cause of the trouble
Pulling the steel
Producing bullets you can feel
Myra’s revenge
Holding the bomb
Next to her gun
Lights up the fuse
Feel your body abused
Myra’s revenge
The cradle is rocking
The baby is knocking
The matches to the floor
She don’t know what they’re for
So she strikes one
And sees the light
She drops it quickly
When she gets a fright
Now the whole floor’s alight
And the house is burning all night
They were Myra’s matches
She’s a disease everyone catches
Myra’s revenge
Clothes – 8th September 1984
Your clothes are flying in the breeze
Your sexy underwear that covers your knees
Your brown leather flares
But nobody cares
But the wind
The pegs all broke and they went flying
The nice white shirt just ready for dying
And now another mother crying
Her clothes all dirty instead of drying
Damn you wind
I have not sinned
And now desperation wins
And you commit unholy sins
Dusty clothes and dirty wind
Clothes clothes clothes
Modeerf – 7th September 1984
You’re back to front, wrong side up
Put your good side down and try your luck
Modeerf
What’s your name and your I.Q?
Kill yourself or find something better to do
Modeerf
Upwards downwards backwards forwards
Can’t keep control of that little hand
That will press the button
To keep freedom in our land
Modeerf
The hope of which you talk is only for you
I know your number – 27 I.Q.
Modeerf
Explain all you like it will lead to a path
We’ll still have freedom during the aftermath
Modeerf
Monsters – 6th September 1984
Bug – you bugged me since the day I was born
If I had a tongue I could have sworn
To the monster you belong
A crucified Martian has a better time
Even though it’s sunny and fine
It’s raining on your head
That monster ought to be dead
A three-legged ant is faster than you
You got no purpose and nothing to do
There’s something inside your head
But I think it might be dead
You’re a monster with no aims
A monster with no claims
A monster with lots of chains
A monster with no brains
Death Is A Part Of Life – 5th September 1984
Death’s become a part of me
I’ve decided upon reality
Cos reality is dead – death is reality
Someone screams from an open room
As heaven sings
And angels loom
Playing their sweet strings
Cos reality is dead and death is reality
Knocking on your door, a kiss of heaven’s breath
Finally decided, now’s your time of death
Cos reality is dead and death is reality
Pinpoint the danger and you’ve solved the problem
Now you must decide on how to absolve them
Cos reality is dead and death is reality
Reality is dead and so am I
At least I chose the way I’d die
Hopes Of A Promised Land – 3rd September 1984
Dream on brothers
Sisters fathers mothers
It will be here soon
Like tomorrow afternoon
Our hopes are now dead
Cos it’s finally here
A promised land
Lying somewhere near
All we have to do is find it
And make our dreams come true
I’ve finally decided
It’s the thing we all must do
Still, we hope in finding it
Before it’s too late
And when we finally get there
We must hope they open the gate
The Week That Was – 3rd September 1984
3rd September 1984
Signed on. Saw Vicky, Sarah, Goober and Marshall.
6th Oct 2023 – Vicky? Sarah? Marshall? Rupert reminded me about Goober recently with a picture which definitely rang a bell but no real memories of him.
5th September 1984
Signed on again
6th Oct 2023 – My memory is of having to sign on every two weeks. Perhaps this week was my first time to do it. I got £26 a week, which I used to finish up in one or two days.
8th September 1984
Came off bike on the road. All day fire at the wood.
6th Oct 2023 – I was turning right at the junction pictured, before there was a divider at the give way. The road was wet and slippery and as I leaned my bike into the traffic-free turn the back wheel slipped out from under me and I slid along the tarmac for about 5 metres. There wasn’t too much damage done to either myself or the motorbike, scrapped knee and hand. I was more shaken up about it than in any pain. I was always more careful on wet roads and turning after that. Even now, when there is gravel on the road, as is often the case here, I tense up a little and try not to lean in too much.
1994ever 