1. |
Take Me To The Tip
04:21
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just call me "general waste"
I squint into the distance
through prescription shades
my lips are the
colour of Listerine
as I slip into the
city of nobody's dreams
hardcore & rubble
and crushed cider cans
once-famous acquaintances with
splinters in their hands
lay em on their backs
in the artificial grass
into the unknown with
neither compass nor a map
everyone's forgotten
who they wanted to impress
the cardio & calisthenics
suddenly seem so unnecessary
the wear and the tear
of every expectation
as lemonade renegades
piss all over your pavement
take me to the tip.
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2. |
Quiz Night
03:31
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head of mixed messages
king of missed calls
bright eyed and bellicose
and bouncing off the walls
a massive head which
whispers through a tiny mouth
his wisdom is concentrated
as it comes streaming out
a feast of made up words
and brand new notes
of the ancient inquisitor
from parts unknown
a lecture on
historical correctness
from obscurity to hubris
without even passing
through success first
a universal boss
and his overfed zealots
his pockets overflow
with non-essential purchases
they scuttle out from
underneath the culvert
from from another
quiz night in the bunker
quiz night in the bunker
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3. |
Leagues & Leagues
03:35
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i think i could cut all my losses
and shut up shop for wintry
off-seasons that never
give a reason why
top's fine, bottom's great
it's the centre we all hate
equate witless weavers
with a nest of wasps
with a nest of wasps
well
i tried my best
to make any sense
of my right or left
and now it's up
on the gallery walls
between straight lines
and it says "here lies all truth"
"but there ain't a science behind
everything all books are shit
all your equations are doomed"
i declare from a heap
at the bottom of your stairs
so look up, look up
there are leagues & leagues
& leagues & leagues above us.
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4. |
Modern Classic
03:43
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his poison packed paperback
had the potential to become
a modern classic but you can't
engineer an apocalypse if
you drop all your apostrophes
in all the wrong places
swelling with a
sense of exceptionalism
in the end terrace again
but how good would
it feel to admit that any
other authors existed?
peak behind the paywall
sizzle with indifference
we all came up with
the same ideas through
independent stimulus
that everyone becomes their most hated oppressor
so ready yourself to recalibrate your expectations
so, tell me when you thought of every possible ending
and which one might mutate into a week long standing ovation
his compliments could only breed desolation
performing in a theatre which was never not at risk
dropping all apostrophes in all of the wrong places
all of the wrong places, all of the wrong places
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5. |
The Understudy
03:25
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i was just a warehouse with one storey
watching as the city worked its way towards me
always in a rage about graffiti which i cannot even see
always was a few meters short of a mountain
frozen at the corner of this ugly junction
the son of a functioning alcoholic and
a non functioning alcoholic
running 15 minutes late
for his 15 minutes of fame
but don't waste your money
on roadside recovery, leave
him on the streets where every
one of his apostles can see
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6. |
Welcome Home Winter
03:39
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local napoleon in land grab scandal
he's posing for his photo by the village sinkhole
he says the artist's impression is never enough
whilst covering up his continuous cough
a man is coming over to take our order
but i cannot tell if he is a waiter or a welder
he's been sneaking through the streets
of the city that hasn't slept in days
he's been dreaming up a scheme
for the draining of the mediterranean sea
pretend that you are a prisoner
pretend that you are at war
waiting for an airlift dressed
in seasonally themed robes
the wind it whipped
away your scent
and tipped me off
my throne as
i whispered
with some
real intent:
"winter, welcome home"
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7. |
Limestone
03:29
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somewhere in the regions he is seething
on his way to yet another three way meeting
with a limestone figure of fertility
and floor to ceiling indignity
hidden in the minutes of the
meeting were the seeds
of an anthology
of unpublishable poetry
he would christen it:
'dances with imaginary adversaries'
and plug it until buddleia
pushed it's way through
his open chest cavity
still quoting
george orwell
way into his fifties
i've had some work done
bumper stickers & racing stripes,
new stereo system - my own
mum only recognises me by the eyes
but i am aware that i am aware
that i am aware that i am aware
that i am aware that i am aware
that i am aware that i am aware
that i am aware that i am aware
bad place to break down.
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mr vista & the trainee baristas Manchester, UK
false collective & made up label.
home of POWER USERS - lolloping, po-mo pre-cog dad-bod, avant-garage rock.
also featuring official war artist, whelpes, & others probably.
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