Don’t talk back, he snapped Her neck fell apart – she collapsed The floor is the place for the terrible games Of the man in black – miserable Mr Aymes
Heady Days
Sometimes I find it hard to keep my head I haven’t been straight in quite a while Can’t remember if I’m still alive I know I’d like to die in style
Martyr
Life a flower you clipped a week ago I’ve wilted in the summer sun Cut at the roots, still stuck in the ground I can’t pretend I’ll be here long In my short time on this here earth I try to consider what I’ve achieved Not a lot I say to myself ‘Cos I’m dying for what I believed
The galloping horses of impending doom Are drawing ever closer The storm clouds of hell Are looming ever nearer The virgin pure is kneeling Trembling at the altar The vision of death I comprehend Is becoming ever clearer Death, blood, sex, satan, alcohol Spit beaaugh puke aahhh
Ten clever men sat smelling the orchids Then ten clever men started feeling awkward When ten clever men – psychiatrists Examining each other’s peculiar twists Ten clever men started again Repeated the session over and over again Discovered not as clever as had thought Ten men – a lesson had been taught
Abstract as a Function
World – grows bigger every day We’ll sink into the sea before I get a say The sky’s choke on poison we dare not breathe If I had a chance I’d like to leave This is abstract around me Something we can see
Drinking Problem
I have no drinking problems as your scars will show I have no drinking problems ‘cos I told you so I can take my drink – I don’t drink much Drinking problems – I have none as such You’re the one who has the problems The black eye, the cigarette burns Everyone laughs at you Hell, even I do I couldn’t do half the things you say I can’t remember them anyway
Frisby
Throw your frisby to a friend Repeat it over again Try and catch it if you will Throw it back harder still
We do the best we can To avoid injury and pain Except for some morons Who find pleasure in that game Hit me – if you can To make you feel a man Hit me – if you can To make you feel a better man
Terrified
I’m terrified of losing It took me this long to realize The power that you’re using I can see it in your eyes How can Iet you go When I don’t want to let you go And I do want to let you go Though I don’t want to let you know
Patriotism
Your patriotism makes me sick ‘Cos you can’t support what you believe I know you’re wrong – ‘cos I’ve seen better If I get the chance I think I’ll leave
Am I plastic or maybe metal Can’t remember if I’m mental A portion of the poison Has infected my left side Sometimes I walk in a stupor Like my brain’s been stir fried But I’m so afraid of my thought My crosses have become noughts This is what I was taught
Deserted streets cold and grey Snow and sleet near every day Deserted streets grey and cold This is Russia – So I’m told Oh … And it’s full of Russians Who live in cold grey homes They probably use the same bank as us So they can get their loans …. Maybe?
