I'M TIRED

it's days like this when sleep seems imperative/
not necessarily the answer to my problems
but
a way of shutting them off,
temporarily stopping this soft machine that i inhabit
and if there's somone next to me,
they're obviously lost/
polka dot impressions of you on my skin,
as i sink deeper into the cheap thrills that distract me

NEON NEON

if love is a verb,

then what am i doing?

pissing away yesterday's excess

when i should be making the most of it/

sitting on the fence,

bent double,

in trouble again

lending a hand with barely posable thumbs/

disposable income,

disposable lighters,

a whole generation of disposable items

passing the time

just to find out we've wasted it

wasted again

(as per usual)

choosing to do this

because it's easier than being proactive/

actively avoiding the responsibility they gave us,

saying we're too young

when we're old enough

to make the wise choice

to shove those white lies up our collective nose,

hoping we'll find something better to do

before we're in too deep/

yellow submarines

in our own sea of chemicals,

smelling the coffee long after we stop waking up/

up is down,

down is up,

and i am drunk/

same old story

death, glory and beans on toast/

knowing that milk with knives in

couldn't revive us now/

head in the clouds

of smoke that fills the room/

losing my edge like i lost this bet with sobriety:

why can't I be you?

and

why can't i choose life

over this high society i find myself in?

spinning faces and such high falls from grace

that i'm scared we've broken a leg/

well,

good luck and fuck forever is all you said

(i'll bear that in mind next time i'm trying to find you

in the neon night time places we habituate these days)

paper planes pass us by,

over our heads

like the death of our salesman friends

from the endless lines they've become accustomed to/

losing their minds like it's going out of fashion

trash talk their only language/

barely managing to string a sentence together
before we pass out

arse over tit

as we try to outsmart the things we've become/

and the drinks we spilt to get there

not caring is our ambition,

missing in action as the undeniable facts are laid bare/

effortlessly falling up the stairs to my bed

rightly thinking that these neon nights

were dead before we started/

half-hearted conversations pale into insignificance

among the stimulants

that have become an imminent part of the way we function/

drunk and disorderly is what they call us

but trust me,

the problem's more complex than that/

looking back at the men we were

before the sex,

drugs

and sausage rolls/

rolling over backwards

to scratch your back

while you stab me in mine/

as you find

that our vices

have put a price on our heads/

and empty beds

are no compensation

for the way we paved

for all the other

good vibrations

of these
neon
night time
places

HIDE + SEEK

you like to think that you're an expert in everything,
nursing your own pride
to hide the fact
that you're pretending:
who needs friends when you've got enemies?
telling me this, telling me that/
apocalypse now is nowhere near how I feel around you sometimes,
patronising me to disguise
how it's a hide and seek situation/
waiting for your one ups to get a man down,
my mistakes are what make you stick around/
sticks and stones are nothing,
but your words piss me off:
right and wrong become a one on one argument,
asking myself why I bother with a know-it-all like you/
truth be told I'm through with your billy liar triumphs
of empty words and tip-ex corrections,
flexible facts as long as you have to be right/
your pedantics make me retch
check my pulse and if it's still beating I won't keep you from killing me/
anything to keep me from the dull reality that your company's become
because there's always one who has to be difficult
and for some reason,
that's always been you

you like being right more than being liked/
but some of us aren't so self-righteous
and,
like I said,
better not to be smart but pleasant instead:
use your head to know when to drop the subject/
I accept that I make mistakes too,
but taking 2 to tango is one thing
and thinking you're better than the whole floor of dancers is another
(i'll punch you in the oesophagus if you talk for much longer)
SORRY
that I'm an idiot
but I'm not blessed with a photographic memory like you/
2 heads are better than one
but not when one head is dead from the brain down/
after all the hows and whys have been explained
by such a wise guy like you/
please,
just choose to shut your mouth once in a while/
I'm not trying to run some kind of fascist regime,
I just mean that we'd get on better if you didn't shoot me down/
doubting the intelligence that although I might hide well
is not something for someone like you to question
unless you have that sarcastic streak removed
(maybe a lobotomy would do the job)

I know I'm exaggerating,
making a big deal,
but this really is the only way I could tell you
to get a word in edgeways
without naming names
or laying in to your rain man tendencies.
I'm sorry that you caught me on a bad day,
let's say we both try to be kind, rewind,
remind ourselves that a friendship is worth it/
shit discos aside
let's decide
to get on with it
together in sickness and health/
breathalyser days behind us
as we try and find meaning
in our daydreams
and make believe games
of hide and seek

I'M A VAMPIRE

it used to be all sandcastles

and video nasties

but it's not that simple any more/

if you asked me why,

I couldn't divulge if I tried

tie dye days and the things we said are over/

I'm sorry, I overestimated myself and did it again,

repetition of the same old tricks/

well

here's one I made earlier

and I'm a vampire,

can you tell?

memory tells me I'm just your problem

and problems are parallel

but right now our wires are crossed,

costing us our little talks/

that's what I get for walking away, I guess/

"no rest for the wicked" they said

and it's only now that I know they weren't joking,

hoping my metaphorical fangs will fall off/

with the probability of soft porn and wasted weekends imminent

I become irrelevant,

living without your big big love and colour tv/

believe me, I'd love to

but it's not that simple, is it?

best intentions still lend themselves

to a means to an end

just like heaven you're not helping that cause

and you're talking to a man
who can just as easily turn into a bat
as save ourselves from this mess/

maybe we didn't help or maybe we got dealt a shit hand:

sad handshake, bloodshake, taking what's yours

just because I know what happened

and the worse thing is

that I don't care/

because I'm a vampire, can you tell?

well, I thought we'd be here for a while

but now I know

that I'm just your problem

and you're just mine

how this keeps happening is a mystery to me/

green tea and heated conversation can't save us now

so how about you take that crucifix you call compromise

'til the sun rises

over all the parties of tomorrow

and all the lonely people

learn from what we've done

MR. HYDE

dazed and confused/
daisy chains and choosing sides
with mr. hyde and me
blue cheese,
cold knees,
jesus
this happened quickly/
kicking myself,
putting up shelves,
shit-scared of what we’ve started
and where we’ve been
if teenage kicks are nothing these days
then mr. hyde should be my name/
shameless, blaming you for tricks and treats
in the red light district,
trying to distinguish
what makes her distinctive/
having difficulty thinking where to put my foot next
let alone what to do with a girl like her/
certain things are definite
but I've risked it twice before
just to find out that we’re not infinite
and there’s no limit
to the number of times I can fuck it up/
insisting it’s your fault
when,
really,
I’m the destructive one:
godzilla, king kong and all the other monsters of my childhood are nothing
compared to the string of disappointments I’ve become
I'm better off dead than dancing with myself:
introspection at its best/
well,
congratulations,
you’ve made yourself a priority/
sorry just doesn’t cut it any more
when the warning of wet paint you already lent on
is as necessary as the pain you caused her,
not just her cross to bear but yours as well/
you can run but you can’t hide
because in this life it’s all the same,
this modern age, modest mouse, detached house disaster
already meeting you in the form of a bored yawn,
asking you for a last chance before answering with the shrug I’ve become accustomed to,
not knowing that I killed her inside,
sliding the I don’t know between her spare ribs/
in a catch 22 with the cold stare shared
and the hot air between us
and YOU
are my mr. hyde,
psychocandy,
psycho killer,
godzilla,
king kong
and all the other monsters of my childhood
who are nothing
compared to the string of disappointments I’ve become