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Monthly Archives: January 2011

miiiiiiioowwaaahhh tat song

can you borrow back what you steal

its all about money anyway

the morning was light and bright

the wine had lost its taste


I speak to them on the corner

the rest are singing in their closed pews

its all just a catch

I just want a taste but just play it safe

nothings reflected in reality

its just need that fills up the space

its just you I can’t replace


faded frame and pop..popss. It it says it all

reeligion on a keyboard

iv’e learned to love reflections its only 8 in the mrning and I might be drunk


i’m still learning but i’m moving

i’m moving

sorry i stepped on your phone now

nothings making senssssssssssse '''''m over it..stttutckkk keyboar............i'm ooooooooooooooveit


Highlow! and fuck it,good excuses

too much retro

to i’mm too drunk to type but sobre enoough to walk

vice versa

slurred verses

boring curses


the churches are all dead

barbed wire I wish I was dead

this avenues so quiet

all the cars are white

and you and you’re dreaming in your bed

its all in the delivery

if I had a gun, i’d use it on my head

if I had a choice i’d use it in our bed

if I had some options, i’d trade for peace of mind

my eyes drip black every morning because you’re too unkind

my heart is tanked in confusion

its shooting its frozen its lying out on the grass

they’ll sit, they’ll laugh, they’ll drink, i’ll fast

I predict the preppy grunge wave


egypt is out side my window, its a waning moon

I converted yesterday afternoon

i’m at my last

I function, I breathe, this right arm could be saved

is it how we planned to live our life a new excuse for hate

the words get shorter, the feeling longer – your short rod is about to break?

Bullet proof glass

what happens when the money runs out?

Its all in the fuckin delivery

its all about light

its all about I can’t convert gods beautiful images

i’m in egypt, i’m in a tomb


i’m in love with a girl…how fortunate?

this is the wail of the lonely wife….and such is life, she’s had enough

I caught her looking at me in the mirror, whilst he pushed you to the floor,

he said I just can’t take you and your fucking looks  no more

i’ve been with him when he fell, i’ve always helped pick up, i’ve been with him through hell

now he wants to fuck it all up

i’m a monster, an addict, a drunken psycho whore

well you’re just you, my dear, and as charming as before

we’ve spoke of concentration camps, executions, solo style

we’ve dreamed of potassium chloride and all the haters we’d defile

a team, some tracks, the finishing line in sight

one indiscretion can make everything right

or make everything a fight

i’d take my own life for this man, I made a wife for this man, I became pious for this man, i’m in crisis with this man

theirs shady eyes behind the doors,

why can’t you see them for what they are

I magnify my fears to remind you who I am

you shot me down to begin again

I don’t like your reasons, I don’t care for my tears

I’ve only been this drunk to drink all your beers

You mixed spite with my vitriol

you mixed whiskey with my wine

I trashed all our hotel rooms

because I’m just too damn kind?

this is the wail of the lonely wife…and such is life…she’s had enough

lets move further apart and trade guilt with self right

lets stay up and get wired and pretend the dark’s not light

i’ve become the only one thats bent and fucked and broke

you’ve just become my last resort, the face I can provoke.

Give me the truth and i’ll tell you a lie

its all the same anyhow, its all fucked now anyhow,

its all rather quite juvenile



ding dong...mp4's 5 steps behind

set up with fake quotes from agents and managers –

I nearly burnt the kitchen down thank angels for smoke where there’s fire


lost in a tropical forest

questions for The Mole : concept versus video



it helps when there’s a history of painting in a family


‘I say I say, I say not’ ‘you again’, my dustbin is absolute full with toad stools,, how do you know its full, cause there’s not mushroom inside…he found a tigers head one day nailed to a piece of wood – the tiger looked quite miserable but I suppose he should – just then from outta window a voice began to wail ‘ he said oi where’s me tigers head? Four foot from his tail” oh my old mans a dustman he wearrs a dustman’s hat, he wears co rblimey trousers and he lives in a council flat, next time you see a dustman looking all pale and sad, don’t kick him in the dustbin he might be my ole dad’


the morning after……………”you”’ve messed up enough times. You ALWAYS mess up! Sorry That was meant to be a quote.


everything goes black.  orange cat eyes the space…just revolving back – weird flotation, sensory deprivation tanks

….for at least the next 6 minutes

I want to take photos of my bikini

cause darling you told you you’d never leave me


i’ll give it up for a good seat at the opera

bus pass, dumb smiles and just a little kiss between you and me

no drama, no drama

no more scars on your stomach

no more scars on my arm

I told you its just a reminder of karma

I promise you no more no more

drama, no more drama





men pause





new speakers and headphones

got a fix?

I am the boy with no arms, dad panicked on seeing him in the crib

what a fib we’re all messed up ad lib

black to white with a clever left foot, he did right in school, he figured out the 20 sec ad lib

white to whine real life dress rehearsal

humans just can’t get along

living out your favourite song

i’ve always loved big hands and I don’t even really know why

the scars are disappearing and I donn’t even really know why

I gnarled at him he gnarled at me I don’t know if its wise

army figures rise

3 Casspirss 10 soldiers

flood relief

employment down so please put yourself in the firing line

white water rafting

black water rafting

life on the streets

no life on the reef

spaghetti highways

pastel cities

bus driver in training

mothers in waiting

a man with one leg has the coolest jersey I ever saw

and a 1984 chrysler new yorker

muddy boyfriend

. I pass Bongisiwe’s house. It’s a wooden two bedroom with chickens in the yard. Loud gospel music is swimming through the windows and a faint light seeps through. It makes me happy to think that her family is inside. Bundled up, her doing her homework, her mom feeding the baby, her father watching the news on TV. I want to go in. I want to ask them if they can change the colour of my eyes and make it all right again. But I don’t because I don’t want to make it right, I want to make it wrong and therefore I am wrong….. apparently. I sneak into one of the containers and watch the spores growing in the hay, soon they will be fungi and people will eat them. It feels magical. Tomorrow I will feel magical, tomorrow I will begin again. I will move, I will smile, I will tell Suzy and nick that I love them desperately and want them near. I will travel great continents to hold them close to me, let them feel this black heart bleat, let them know that I am in control; I am the maker, the marker, the mast and the helm. How do you begin again, which moment dictates the direction? I am standing now in the big green field next to the lake. The boat has been set free. I sit and listen to the night. I sit and wander what to think; now that I have destroyed all that I love and love all that I hate.

henry david thoreau










desire and everything everything is fantasy