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HANG OUT WITH ME TOMORROW
Forget about your job
If you get kicked out you can have my sofa
It’s nearly midnight
And I’m kind of worked up about the future

Hang out with me tomorrow

We could hit Piccadilly
Drink beer amongst the breakfast rush hour
You could stop all the traffic
As we stagger aimlessly around our world

If you hang out with me tomorrow

So phone me at nine
If you talk to my parents please don’t use swearwords
I’m dreaming of you tonight
As I watch the moonlight on your side of the city

T-SHIRTS
when will you realise just what’s going on?
should I put a fucking ad out in the local news?
I’ve been in love with you now for oh so long
I’d bin all my Mayfairs just to see you in the nude

‘cos you, those t-shirts you wear
those green streaks of dye polluting your hair
I dream of you, you’re everywhere I go
the world’s just not fair, nobody cares and you’ll never know

I saw you yesterday on the other side of the road
my heart felt like a timebomb just waiting to explode
remember my name, in case you ever see some sense
I’m the guy with the camera, crouched behind your garden fence

TURNED OUT SHITE AGAIN

I don’t need any other soul

tonight I own the world

looking at the world from the bottom of my coffee cup

if this is only a dream I don’t think I want to wake up

I won’t be an animal in love’s captivity

from now on this planet’s gonna revolve around me

defiance out of loneliness is a tragic thing indeed

I tried so hard to survive that I forgot how to succeed

competing on my own won’t win me the human race

but I’ve got a box of Kleenex and a smile on my face

tonight

I could sit outside

I could cry the stars to sleep

but why do that when ‘Trisha’ is on TV?

FOURTH REICH

you may call it jealousy, well I call it disgust

smiling faces, visual perfection

genocide for the right complexion

looks or death, yeah, what comes first?

consumerism at its worst

you don’t care who’s suffering

as long as the dough keeps flooding in

don’t wanna live, don’t wanna live

in the Fourth Reich

fuck your 0.1 percent

the pretty people you represent

we’re the 99.9

if this is ugly then it feels just fine

this is how we’re meant to be

the zombies shown us on TV?

tell this to your stupid beauty class

stick your perfect body up your perfect arse

JACK KEROUAC
St. Petersburg, Florida
did you really think it would end like this?
forty-seven was too young
this faded book is all I have
in the American night
as the Greyhound pulls away

Jack Kerouac
where the fuck did you go?
yeah I really
well, I want to know

what road are you on now?
does the journey carry on?
I guess only time will tell
I heard that down in San Francisco
they still ask ‘where the fuck did Jack go?’
beneath the lonely city lights
where are you tonight?

I DREAMED YOU WERE A NECROPHILE

I dreamed you were out of the ordinary

hanging out around the cemetery

yeah, a little strange

you said “c’mon let’s dig them up”

I tried to run away and call the cops

on you, on you

I dreamed that you had no compassion or remorse

you wouldn’t sleep with me but you’d do it with a corpse

on a gravestone they’d carved out “INSECURITY”

oh why oh why won’t you sleep with me?

I dreamed you were a...

necrophile

you said “you just want to get laid

so hurry up and grab a spade and help

they ain’t getting any fresher”

I said “I knew you wanted to get boned

if I’d known you’d meant this I would have stayed at home

away from you, away from you

LONDON TOWN
sick of this cocooned emotive world
writing second-rate songs about third-rate girls
suddenly it felt like just a waste of time
when the ladies see me they don’t smile
‘cos they all think I’m juvenile
darling, grab a ticket and get the fuck in line

to survive it’s sometimes necessary to fight
but I just wanna break some things, I just wanna break some things tonight

goodbye, London Town
I laughed out loud
as I tore my city down
oh London town
I’m sure you thought
you’d always be around

put my pride upon the shelf
is that before or after you go fuck yourself?
from now on things round here are gonna change
the tourists they all stopped and stared
as the Queen’s guts splattered on Tony Blair
Big Ben toppled down into the Thames

INFLICT OURSELVES UPON THEM

squint at the blue sky, open a beer

my life is telling me what I want to hear

so this is the reward for going against the grain

standing our ground, refusing to change

you used to tell me every night “it’ll work out alright”

though I don’t remember what you meant

but I know how you felt about the hours we inflicted ourselves

upon them, and that’s alright

sometimes I run, take refuge in the past

it helps me to realise that we were built to last

now I look around, I don’t feel so alone

what good would time be if it didn’t help us learn?

I looked around me yesterday, amazed I didn’t feel ashamed

I had to laugh at what we have become

and as you passed me a drink I found it funny to stand back and

see the way we inflict ourselves upon them

so I talked to my friends ‘til we all passed out

you won’t believe me but that’s what life’s about

the world is all here, no direction to hold

refuse to believe that we need to be sold

time has not yet worn us thin, there’s no difference sink or swim

we create the meaning on our own

it’s like we’ve gatecrashed a party and it’s up to us to start it

show ‘em we’re here, inflict ourselves upon them

DETOX

watching you disappear from my life

inhale the London air as you vanish out of sight

return to the flat just the same as before

there’s still your handwriting on my front door

needless to say, good things go away

why do they always keep going away from me?

staring at your picture wondering where it all went wrong

lost another girl, gained another weak love song

things always fall apart when it seems they’re going right

now it’s me and my left hand, and another lonely night

draw the curtains so no-one can see my face

rent another video as my mind drifts into space

intoxicated, I shout lines of poetry

I drink alone, salute your memory

FASHION VICTIM
I woke up today after 15 hours’ sleep
put on my leather jacket, my converse, and my jeans
then I phoned my girlfriend beaming with pride
‘cos I’m so fucking different… aren’t I?

She said… fashion victim
I’ll be a fashion victim

I got a letter from Milan, they asked if I would go
ponce around the catwalk and advertise B.O
how can I be different, why should we even try?
don’t want to be anonymous, I think I’d rather die

ONE LAST TEENAGE CRUSH
Two weeks to go, no turning back
‘til I hit the big two-O
Before I mature like John Cusack
There’s something you should know

The years fly by and life’s a rush
So I’ll sit back and dream
My one last teenage crush

I wanna hold your hand and walk around
Read beat poets in the park
Eat toast with this girl I’ve found
And swap saliva in the dark

I wanna bleach and dye your hair
Watch you laugh at passers-by
See you in your underwear
It’s just fantasy but I don’t mind

BATHSHEBA (Jo Mangled)
another billboard grabs my gaze
blackmailing me to join the craze
stifling me in this concrete maze
a cellblock for the city slaves
lowered eyes greet me on the bus
a speeding brothel of regret and rust
today I’m sentenced to harbour my disgust
it’s not their sex and fame I lust

I wanna be
far from the Madding crowd

the world’s a twisted place today
I’m reassessing it far away
where the viewing’s pleasant, eases my brain
where I’m oblivious to all they say
they threaten we’ll be left on the shelf
they warn us all to spend on our health
marketers just play tricks to sell
like Bill Hicks told them: kill yourself

from up here you all look insignificant
it’s like I’m looking through their eyes

SMILE OR MOVE

I was quiet for several years

but I awoke one day and said

“I’m fucking glad to be here

yeah I’m proud to be here”

I just wish the same for everyone

‘cos it’s a million times better

than insecurity and fear

(be glad that you’re here)

and I won’t apologise anymore

I’m smiling now

there’s nothing to be sorry for

I make mistakes quite frequently

but they’re MY mistakes

they’re the decisions that got me here

let no-one tell you you’re inferior

there are reasons why they’ll want to bring you down

it’s your world too, be proud

if I get in your way tonight

smile or move ‘cos it’s my right to be here

and I’m proud to be here

‘cos I watch the sun go down each day

my heart quickens

I just can’t believe that I’m here

if only for a few years

THIS WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED TO BOB DYLAN

inspiration ebbs away

in the dregs of another cup of tea

I watch the suits drink their wine and I wonder

what you’d make of this tragedy

stars lurk beneath the clouds, I walk

jumping puddles of broken glass

the scenery and script of the life I lead

are torn up and consigned to chance

could I ask you in passing

or shout it to your side of the tracks?

‘cos none of this makes much sense

the world don’t make no sense to me

ate breakfast with Plato as I lay and dreamed

he murmured something, it’s all Greek to me

so I’ll sit, examine, ‘til my number’s up

never understanding what I see

if I asked you in passing

or shouted to your side of the tracks

would some of this make more sense

would my life make some sense to me?

If you answered, would I understand with time

Or would you tell me we must make up our own minds?