1. |
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Never start the day with a question
Like what really is an action potential?
Well, pal, that’s a great theory
But how’s it match up with your itinerary?
In a mare with inanimate things
And so in love with how the doorbell rings
You know when the carpet screams at you
That paranoid blissful whispered tune
It’s the treachery of the everyday
It’s not your day, but still
Get up
Put on some clothes
And prove to your possessions
What you say goes
Behave
Like no one knows
Another day’s gone by
In ones and zeros
Time will betray
Time won’t behave
So I participate
In the madness of the day
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2. |
Border Town
02:12
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A piece of string is as long as
Four closed walls around
No windows no doors, no, not in this town
Four bare walls with no exits
You can’t talk your way out of this
Border town
Disorder town
These spaces laugh at our maps
Soho’s no a to z
Camden’s no bible, no, we’re not that well read
My entire world’s in this suitcase
Its busted lock bleeds through this place
Frontier town
Unspun tears town
No phoenix East, no picnics West
The South’s no martyr, North no god
No resting your head in a square mile land of nod
A million walls with just exits
No gift of gab and no guest list
Border town
Supposed not to be closed now
Open door town?
Well, my city was dragged down
has been around
was built on this piece of string
Unwound
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3. |
An Impossible Gift
02:46
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These words are always insufficient temporary words
So how to say what I want to say to you?
The song will just have to stay provisional, somehow unheard
Better late than never, it’ll always be here soon
What can I give you but a small part of myself?
A wish of love, a wish for your eternal health?
Or a perfect question like this, if nothing else?
What do you give those who gave you to yourself?
It’s like a game to think up sundry other intangibles
And yet even here it seems I cannot compete
Not just a lifelong warranty but one with no quibbles
A happy bind where to fail is to succeed
But what can I do to ensure you know you’re right?
Provide an open cage for some captured light?
A paradox celebrated, every night:
A song for you without whom there’s no me to write
So really this is just you singing to yourself, but through me
Better late than never, here’s an impossible gift, finally
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4. |
To be a Book
01:43
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My body’s become a body text
Without all that pesky flesh
Still got a front, a back and spine
But my content’s no longer mine
Literature sick
And by literature cured
But like a ham in a sham
Of a play called life
To be a book
To live on for sure
Shut my gob and let all the knobs
Fight over what’s meant by me
Everything you know about me
Is just a neat little story
I’m more than my anatomy
But I’m no more than my diary
My tongue’s become a flapping page
In a treatise beyond age
I’m made of words I make up too
That predate me but are always new
Literature bound
And by literature freed
But like a brick in a thick
Prison wall called life
To be a book
To fulfil a need
Live in such wealth up on my shelf while you
Fight over what’s meant by me
Everything you think you know
Was first published in genetic code
Double cross helix in verso
A biography that nobody wrote
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5. |
Postcards from the Void
02:32
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Unalone
Unbag my bones
Remember public paper
Scissors, stones
Underhand
Unearth these lands
Isolated notes no one
Understands
Unobserved
Until unnerved
At the lonely cusp of a
Ball uncurved
I can see not two feet in front of me but my own leave me alone
Undertone
Seeds are sown
Poor spilt milk
Won’t cry for itself
So please pity
Lack of social health
This is the greatest scene I’ve ever known
And I should know
I keep it in my chest when I’m alone
This is the busiest room I’ve ever seen
But it’s only me
And a void of incursions where faces had been
But it can’t just be me
But it is
From an unplace
I guess soon
I’ll write to you
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6. |
Lightly Toasted
02:13
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We always want to change our mood
Perennially, even with food
People are drugs only with shoes
Another good chat and we’ll be happy too
Every single day, every single hour
New medicine, new emotional power
I want to feel different, what can I devour?
Why is my newfound joy always turning sour?
There’s an app for that
There’s a pill for that
And just read this article
Should you ever feel flat
Must be something you ate
But you can just fuck to modulate
Done with this feeling, next one too
But the one after will be great
Right?
And so just as toast is to bread
I’ve got to do something with my head
Anything, anything that I can at all
Again and then again
Till fuck knows when
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7. |
Bodies of Water
02:40
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A blood vessel adrift on a blood stream
I still hydrate such harboured dreams
Sweat in my rags then I make them pristine
And every day, wash this stupid body clean
And repeat
Your eyes are pools
But my mouth is a lagoon
Counting hopes dissolved in the sea
On wrinkling fingers submerged too soon
Acid belly
You’re a crater-top lake
Your 60%’s here next to me
But you’re still an ocean away
Still wet behind the ears
Even with the flow of years
I just want to
Evaporate
Here with you
But it’s against
Your current
Current
Time and tide like oozing sap
Heraclitean fire hydrant tap
If that day at the beach still sounds so nice
Never step in the same puddle of tears twice
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8. |
Of Storms and Teacups
02:18
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Cold front warning, be cool but not cold
Global warming, all up in your globe
Twilight dawning, all calm now unfolds
Night time morning, not what you were told
Like storms on the news
Seeing red, seeing purples and blues
I now feel affinity with a sky like a bruise
Such a short fuse
The greatest killer is that stress that’s in you
But complicit victims love the thrill of death too
Drama alert, oh my giddy gosh
Just stay inert, not caught in a mosh
My feelings hurt, they can’t quite be quashed
Dishing the dirt, all teacups unwashed
Seeing dinner sets flying through the air
And see traditional saucers carve up angry stares
You’re just so pissed off that nothing is there
Where you left your anxiety livid and bare
But what is it you’re so furious about?
Like me’s it to do with fucking nowt?
Something we could both just do without?
Call it debate but it’s just a fucking pout.
Air pressure, chatting breeze, over and out
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9. |
I'll See You Around
02:36
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I’m vying for your attention
I’m laid out on the line
I hope you’re not in too much of a hurry
And that today you’re feeling fine
I’m not a cardboard cutout
I’m actually flesh and bone
But I’ll settle for just a glance
As you walk by talking on your mobile phone
I’m just another street performer
Inhabiting your street corner
Hoping for a coin or two
But really I’m just happy if I am heard by a few
Of you
You’re not interested, no?
Well I’ll see you around
I wrote this song in about a minute
I hope that you can’t tell
Because even though that was the point in the first place
I know that it won’t sell
You expect a higher standard
Than that which I’ve just set
Believe me, it’s not your disdain I fear
It’s really only the weather that I dread
I’m just another street performer
Hanging out on your street corner
Hoping for a coin or two
But really I’m just happy if I get a smile from you
Or two
You’re not interested, no?
Well I’ll see you around
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10. |
Working Title
03:33
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Energy in engine
Generate an inch
I’m spending
So much more to live for
Than a moron’s
Comprehending
Forcing up a frothy
Thoroughfare of
Creature comfort
And a purpose for the
Mornings where the programme’s
Work on something
You and I
Strive, strive, strive
Just to feel half alive
Half the time
Not enough
Love, love, love
Just enough to cover up
Paper cuts
And my
Entitled life
Is a title fight
With my self
Service
Please
But also with all the things we see
That we deploy meaningfully
When they’re just empty
And you work for every breath in turn
Just one more try and you’ll have learned
What’s really of concern
The circle turns so we take chase
The right to work but left in haste
Mental task, like, mental mate
Work? Too right, it’s such a waste
So what are we doing with all this hot blood still in our fucking veins?
Turn of phrase
Turned out afraid
To offer non-offensive rage
It’s so much more
Than my job’s worth
The worst words are their own cage
In the thick of thinking
Out of sync
And kitchen sinking
In then out and in house
When our most punched in
Of mouths say
You and I
Strive, strive, strive
Just to feel half alive
Half the time
Not enough
Love, love, love
Just enough to cover up
This paper cuts
And my
Entitled life
Is a title fight
With my self
And this world
So what am I doing with all this hot blood still in my fucking veins?
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