BRICKS

every time I pull one out

another one falls into its place

making my head spin

thinking about all those things

to the point of personal explosion

momentarily losing myself

to the tetris days we're falling into

KETAMINE KATE

ketamine kate, do you care to explain?

you used to be a woman of integrity

now you're leading a life

that between you and me

can only go one way

(and it's not left, right or up)

maybe it's much ado about nothing

or maybe i just care too much

what they think about you

 

ketamine kate

you proudly told me your name

not that you should be ashamed

but have the grace and wastelands of this town

taught you nothing?

unless the lesson you learnt

was to turn back around

from all the opportunities that came your way

or maybe they never gave you any

and the many man knocked you down

before you could understand why

the high-flying birds

are nothing compared

to the 808 state you're always in when i find you

trying to associate yourself

with your dissociated mind

and the society of lying bastards

that you're sadly a part of

all gladly partaking

in the fucked up olympics

you call your weekdays and ends

heat seeking to keep you from speaking your mind

while the shiny happy people piss you off

the poppers and purple hearts

don't get you off like they used to,

do they?

 

you might still be a child at heart

but it's not '94 any more, kate

and i know you hate how you've become

outnumbered

by the runaways around you
and the sounds of silence that meet you
in the rare moments you're sober

but whatever katy did,
now it's over
as her heartbeat slows down
to 10 a minute
then none
learning too late how much her name would cost her
as her friends look down
and realise they've lost it all
they go through her pockets
and rack up another line
on the plastic floor

WARFARIN

why bother with non-stop actions
when nowadays it's better to die having not tried anything
than to try at all?
all the apathetic ones
trying to mind our own business
as the big business pushes us under buses
trust words and trust no one,
you're only on top of the world when you're at the north pole

i'm rolling in it
(shit, that is,
not money)
ruling everything around me like tutankhamun
armed with whatever i can fit in a plastic bag
and if that's my head then i'm ready,
the holes they put in it is the only thing stopping me
cutting my losses
and dropping off what you gave me

- a neat gin and warfarin
to make it go quickly,
quicker than he did

SAY ANYTHING

all our dopamine
hopes and dreams
confuse me.
excuse me while I throw up,
because growing up is easy
when things please me like they do today
but maybe
tomorrow will be different
and the difficulty of thinking it through
will move me sideways,
less like a high 5
more like the floor,
moving underneath me

understanding the big easy
the way you see it,
with my itchy feet,
is nothing
when you're thinking of all the ways
your ankle could break.
learning from my mistakes
like a kid taking time to ride a bike,
but they don't make stabilisers for real life situations
so take my money
and run away

they say we're good for nothing
but nothing's all I've got
what'll we do with the costume party days we're in?
and with the sinking feeling I get when I stand up
and the double dutch
which isn't much use
when I can't speak
and you can't hear
him,
her
or anyone

2,
3
bodies with 1 heart
starting to think this was a bad idea
nearly clearing the room when I open my mouth
and hitting my head when I open the door
surely £10 wasn't worth it?
when all we do is burn what we get
and play with our heads,
Gameboys and girls
holding steady
getting ready
for everything to hurt when we wake up,
turning to reach for what we grew from
when we knew that the problem was the solution

but if 2 opposites are the same
then 2 sides of my brain are in trouble.
blowing bubbles can't save us now
so clap your hands 'til they fall off
and cough up your lungs 'til they blow up,
throw up again
and bend it like anything
because devil tricks
for a bitch
will catch up with us soon
screwing us over
like the screws in your new leg

tell me I'm more than the horror stories
and paranoia
that made us
let me trust you when you say we're ok
and maybe i'll sleep before 4am
and say I'm sorry to my body for the things we've done
and the fights we won but
didn't have to
smashed knees and broken teeth along the way
say something,
say anything
before it's too late

TELESCOPES

the thing is...
I can't help thinking
of the things we never did
and the things I said
but didn't follow through
and I'm scared that will happen
this time with you
because being scared is easy,
holding onto it is hard
(and I'm hardly trying not to),
locked on to a love that won't last
if I don't stop being the martyr
I've started to become
young gun
with the sun in my sights
and telescope eyes,
crying lightning for her
suck it up and spit it out:
you're a man now,
a man who's head over heels
with the reoccurring version of events
that led to this mess
in the first place

X

they say they're all for united kingdom independence

when i think we should be dependent on each other

not to disrespect a man or woman for where they come from,

not to make peace with bombs,

and not to fall to pieces because of the wrongs of others we've invented:

a vent for the closet racists that are costing us our respect for each other

another hateful letter through the post,

posing as politics,

and i swear i'll stop caring

expecting an X on the paper to make things better

when i've been let down and lied to

by the people who said they'd try to make a difference

to the riots and the fighting on the street

to keep what we can

whilst everything else is being handed to the privileged few,

a silver plate matching the silver spoons in their mouths

and lacking any thought for the everyman like me and you

not that i'm doing badly myself,

i just see so much hate and loveless lovemaking around me

that,

sometimes,

it seems making a difference is more difficult

than turning water into wine

(when the last guy tried that it didn't exactly turn out alright)

trying to believe in that when rats the size of dogs are all the papers care about

allowing the things that really matter to slip through their fingers

thinking that hacking a dead girls phone is ok

that the BNP are making a good point

that royalty means loyalty to giving everything to baby george

well BULLSHIT

it's sitting on the fence like we are that's led to this mess

and i feel powerless:

how can one man make a difference?

the jam said that's entertainment

but i want more,

i want to be sure that people will keep fighting the things we find unfair

that we'll care about more than the boring things that fill our days

and the hazy smoke of our friday nights in

i want to know that there's hope over the broken social scene we're stuck in

something in all this that's worth the worthless people dying inside for

as they try to have their say

i want more than to complain

i want to raise the bar for what we can do

prove it's more than just pissing behind a skip when saturday night's lost its charm

the CALM DOWN DEAREST

and nearly falling over,

overcompensating for the way things are

and the parties of tomorrow that slow down

when we realise we didn't try hard enough

and trusted the wrong men to lead us

when all they did was teach me

not to feel guilty

about the misery

of those less fortunate

but i know that all i have to speak my mind

is 2 intersecting diagonal lines

in a square

that no one cares

or gives a SHIT

if i fill in

A MATADOR

sometimes i feel like a matador
sorting you lot from left right and centre,
my red flag ignored as per usual
as useful as the broken glasses that lie on our floor,
another job for the matador
adore me
but my flaws will still leave a sour taste in your mouth:
how's that for an accolade?

LA LA LOVE YOU
but love's only skin deep
so keep dreaming, androids,
of electric sheep
then at least you'll be counting them
instead of the fleeting moments that you actually see me
in between the seemingly meaningless moods
that dictate my day

if something good will come
then you'll be first in line,
china shop distractions surround you
and fresh feelings of 48 hours ago
as you forgo the friends we made
by creating scenes of a violent nature
waiting for our future to unroll
just a soul clap away from certain calamity
you come at me with broken arms
but flexing can only get you so far
when you're a human heart attack like you
a suit and tie can't hide the horror on your face
as you face backwards:
does pot kettle black ring any bells?

respect me
and i'll respect you
i try to see through you
but i can't,
so i acquiesce instead
but righteousness can only get you so far
i'm in the dark about your high and mighty feelings
clearly we need to talk
before we walk too far down this road
of cat fights,
broken bones
and biting my head off,
coughing with innocent surprise
defending your lies and disguising your guilt
killing my questions
with your questionable level of responsibility
tricking me into forgetting
that it's YOU i'm angry at
attaching myself to the unhealthy habit
of talking behind backs and closed doors

falling over myself to help you
when you helped yourself to what i had
i've had enough of being pushed around
like a human merry-go-round
each rotation making it harder to hit you back,
back to reality as you continue to be
my red flag friend
and i wait for it to happen
all over again