DOUBLE ‘O’:

Hands on the wheel, no spill, no fuss. Take it to the races,
all the aces shining. Clock ticking on the ink of the morning
news, it’s all gone electric.

What happened to all my boys, laughing long into the night,
full of the juice of runway youth? Riding together in a
rocket-faced Ford, footprints on the inside of the the windscreen,
passenger side. Remember how we recoiled when you told us how they
got there? Head between speakers in the back seat, wasted,
Brainstorm, distortion, bliss. King joker, TV repair man, chauffeur,
hot in pursuit of a thrill or just the nearest exit out of there.

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VIOLENT MOUTH:

Transmission, molecules & wonders. Out of night into an unmarked
morning. Electric Apollo, the music of washing lines waiting for
something to do. Birdsong machines breath in the distance.
Clouds hesitate in passing, consider falling onto us, carrying
nothing. Nothing to prove. Too skinny, too rude.
These are not tears, they’re kisses, the marks of buried treasure.

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RUN AROUND:

Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around Run around
All day – but – happy!

Marcus Miller – ‘Hylife‘

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YOU’RE A JAPANESE T-SHIRT:

Savouring the moment, a bird waits in a bush for the world to open.
What goes on behind closed doors defies imagination. Turn the key on
a secret hurt. Let it out before the bubble bursts. Shark sweetens a
clandestine rendezvous, snake dreams, the Run-around Sue. Honey, stay
in touch, maintain connection.
Where are you now?
Don’t get me wrong.
I’m not throwing stones.

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THING WORKS:

Intuition in the face of fear, a gut reaction, trust me.
Everything’s Blonde-ed, get the roof off, drive. You are
beautiful, even broken. Grinder, puller, if you do it too
quick it comes out crooked. Good soul look around, slow down,
click.

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AFTER THE TOUR IS ROVER:

Got all my boys, my buddies, my crew. Got everybody here, going great.
Magic shoes, yeah, autographs & photos, Old Paradise got the Blues.

She lay in late under the covers, reflecting on the funny side.
Too hot, too cold, another little moan about summer on a temperate
island. You make me laugh. You’re doing great in that box.

Junior Brown – I Hung It Up

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NIGHT, IT’S CHEAPER THAN YOU THINK:

I interrupt a coat hanger hanging on a mirror, suffer bell alarms
waiting on the runway for the sky to open.

Hot Johnie Ginger. Blue features nothing.
Fully charged gear, Gold Lulu accessories.
Pandora wildflower, daisy chain, baby-G.
Topical symmetry. Three-way sticker growing
gorgeous sonic systems. Luxury traveller,
infinite extras. Sweet treat miracle worker.
Snap charm double taker. Toy city, new island
neighbourhood, fast & invisible tapes around
your waste.

Boredom be my guide.

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LIVE, SCHEDULES, PROMISES:

Waiting at the gate for the sky to open. Faces, numbers hung out
on the Ring Road. Heat, security. Leave the bag in, watch the colour
change. Here comes the first shift, dressed in black & tattoos.
Pushing through, confident as kings.  Bring a disarmed face to the
table before the meditation takes effect. Avoid serious conversation,
delicate, loaded. Spoon fed looks. Hooded eyes across the room,
drinking sugar milk from the bowl.

Daydreaming

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IT’S A LIE BUT IT FEELS REAL:

Drowns in belief, floats in faith on an early one, streets choked
in mist – Brigadoon. How you feeling? Wrong trainers on cold turkey
feet, numb from lack of groove but bang on time, civi street.
Life is sweet, life is great, keep chanting ‘tll you believe. Win
the weekend. Win everything. Sail clean between the grand facades
of legends. Don’t feel small, it’s all for you.
The self, the voice, the chasm that yawns beneath. Have a good one.
See you soon, dressed as a toyshop sailor selling boat rides to
tourists. Keep the change, keep moving. This is the show, to eat in
or go, a black bag in each fist.

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EVERYTHING TASTES OF FISH BUT I’M OK THIS WAY UP:

Memories of good times haunt good, hurt good, remembering the
best time. Smart water, high water, hot water, skinny water.
Freshly squeezed passion, better than never. Instant free-fall,
wake-up-call, ping! Stay cool, steaming, slow walk in from the
street, heels clicking, cooking, smoking. Heads turn, all the boys
looking. Perfume of a breakdown on a road at the edge of night.
Here it comes, a different sun, rising over the horizon.
Take a picture easily forgotten.

Hi, how are you?
Tired
Hide your mouth behind your hand when you’re yawning.

Savoy Brown – ‘Train to Nowhere‘

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