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Read (Discography): Wire: 1977–1979

Pink Flag

Reuters

Our own correspondent is sorry to tell
Of an uneasy time that all is not well

On the borders there's movement
In the hills there is trouble
Food is short, crime is double

Prices have risen since the government fell
Casualties increase as the enemy shell
The climate's unhealthy, flies and rats thrive
And sooner or later the end will arrive

This is your correspondent, running out of tape
Gunfire's increasing, looting, burning, rape

Field Day For The Sundays

I wanna be a field day for the Sundays so they can f——k up my life
Embarrass my wife, and leave a bad taste
That striped toothpaste can't remove on Monday mornings

I wanna be a target for the dailies so they can show
Pictures of me with a nude on page three, so lacking in taste
Touched up near the waist, looking as limp as Monday morning

Three Girl Rhumba

Think of a number, divide it by two,
something is nothing, nothing is nothing.
Open a box, tear off the lid,
then think of a number, don't think of an answer.
Open your eyes, think of a number,
don't get swept under, a number's a number

A chance encounter you want to avoid, the inevitable,
so you do, oh yes you do the impossible

Now you ain't got a number, you just want to rhumba,
and there ain't no way you're gonna go under

Go under

Ex-Lion Tamer

There's great danger
For the loneliest ranger of all
No silver bullets
Tonto's split the scene

Next week will solve your problems
But now, fish fingers all in a line
The milk bottles stand empty
Stay glued to your TV set

There's great danger
At hand most caped crusader of all
No cloak of justice
Robin's flown the nest

Lowdown

The time is too short but never too long
to reach ahead, to project the image,
which will in time become a concrete dream.

Another cigarette, another day,
from A to B, again avoiding C, D, and E,
'cos E is where you play the blues.
Avoiding a death is to win the game,
to avoid relegation, the big E.

Drowning in the big swim, rising to the surface

The smell of you
That's the lowdown

Start To Move

Start to move, time at hand, bird in hand

No bush but trees thicken, which now, rooster or chicken

Leave the past, feel the wrench, smell the stench

Was good, but flesh soon rots, emotions, we all got spots

Please believe me, I still do care, please believe me, I'm just not there

Brazil

It's true darling, I'll walk you home, I'll be your date forever
I love you girl, I love you, until they split the atom

So many times there's nothing left, there's nothing left at all
I know I'm right, 'cause when you're gone, there's nothing left at all

Left, right, salute

It's So Obvious

It's so obvious, it's here, it's there
It's not just the colour, it must be more
At least 17+3 score
This is '77, nearly heaven
It's black, white, and pink, just think
There's more to come
Hum hum hum hum
It's so obvious

Well it's all right, just listen, can't wait for '78
God those RPM, can't wait for them, don't just watch
Hours happen, get in there kid and snap them

Surgeon's Girl

Sitting in a surgeon's world, as surgeons will, a surgeon's girl with me
Standing on a river bed, where weeds can be, I'm on my knee to you

I've seen you in glossy mags, I've seen you and you see me

Said you weren't a tuna fish, put in a tin, they're very big, ha ha

Pink Flag

I was sold up the river to the red slave trade
The stores were gathered, the plans were laid
Synchronised watches at 18:05
How many dead or alive in 1955?

The pink flag was screaming, bugle boys sucked and blew
No time for confessions, orders given
Books were cooked on the 4th of the 3rd
How many seen or heard on the 12th of the 3rd?

How many dead or alive?

The Commercial

[instrumental]

Straight Line

My mind is unwilling and your flesh is so weak
Do my movements betray the secrets I think?
I always stand by walls and try to humour fools

Am I moving in a straight line?

Oh, it's unlust and the one-dimensional boy

106 Beats That

If he had a room, he'd paint it white,
survives the day, prefers the night,
build slight

Got a head for figures
No time for bicker(er)s
(Or so he says)
Prefers the company of a woman

Finds it more physical (that's an important word),
always seen first then heard,
such a rare bird

With praise he glows, with change he grows, finds that important, hates waiting, it's not stimulating, likes celebrating, I can't understand why that is so funny, that is sex

Mr Suit

I'm tired of being told what to think
I'm tired of being told what to do
I'm tired of f——ing phonies
That's right, I'm tired of you

No, no, no, no, no, no, Mr Suit

You can take your f——ing money and shove it up your arse
'Cause you think you understand, well it's a f——ing farce
I'm tired of f——ing phonies
That's right, I'm tired of you

And if you turn and walk out that door
And take your f——ing money, let me tell you what it's for
I'm tired of f——ing phonies
That's right, I'm tired of you

Strange

There's something strange going on tonight
Something going on that's not quite right
Joey's nervous and the lights are bright
There's something going on that's not quite right

There's something going down that wasn't here before
Keep your eyes glued to the floor
No one's gonna save your life
Something strange is going on tonight

Fragile

Tears fall in slivers, you broke my shades
The light's too bright, let me bury my heart

Filter emotions of green, cowardice gives blue
A restricted view, let me open my heart

I have a fleeting love, scorching when it lands
Fragile
Needing precious hands
Fragile

You eat my energy, give me more rope
Nail in the wall, let me hang my heart

Mannequin

You're a waste of space
No natural grace
You're so bloody thin
You don't even begin

To interest me, not even curiosity
It's not animosity, it's just you don't interest me

You're an energy void
A black hole to avoid
No style no heart
You don't even start

Different To Me

Well I wonder what's going on, same old stuff suppose
Not quite right that the stuff's the same but it seems different to me
Seems like the cancer in this city has got to be terminal
I haven't got it, though; incidentally, where are you?
Thought you lived here, the bright lights have got you
I'd rather be a sprat than a mackerel, you can slip through the net
It's set, it also takes one to catch one

Champs

The race of champions, the pace the pace
The speed the need, the need to seed
The chance to die

Another dead don't cry, another dead don't cry
You've still got speed, you'll maybe bleed
But that's next time

Less time than before, more speed than before
You're rich not poor, what are you doing it for?
Want more, want more

Another dead don't cry, another dead don't cry
Indeed it's speed, to feed from speed

Doing it all the time

Feeling Called Love

What is this feeling called love?
What is this crazy thing I can't explain anyhow?
What is this feeling called love?
What is this crazy scene I can't work out anyhow?

Maybe I should try it now
Or maybe I should be shy of it now
COs there's nothing you know that can explain it
And there's nothing you know that's worth the pain of it

What is this feeling called love?
What is this thing I can't work out no how?
What is this feeling called love?
What is this thing I don't understand no how?

Gimme love

12XU

Saw you in a mag (smoking a fag), kissing a man

I got you in a corner (cottage), got you in a corner

12XU

Chairs Missing

Practice Makes Perfect

Practice makes perfect, yes I can prove it
Business or pleasure, the more that you do it

Please dress in your best things, this course was unplanned
'Cos you see up in my bedroom I've got Sarah Bernhardt's hand

Practice makes perfect, I've done this before
Never for money, always for love

Please dress in your best things, and don't make a fuss
'Cos you see up in my bedroom Sarah's waiting for us

French Film (Blurred)

I didn't understand your plea to live
Or the guy's wish to take or give
However, as backing away,
he fell and lay dead amongst the fireworks display

It's not quite the way to say your goodbyes
It's not quite the way to behave
Secured you a concrete grave beneath a motorway

Gold scissors cut the ribbon and set them loose
On the opening day the vibrations will shake your bones
I suppose that's just the disadvantage
Of not speaking a second language

(The problems of bad reception resulting in blurred perception)

Another The Letter

Passed to hand, behind the curtain
The letter brings change, now things are uncertain
Hand to hand, the letter moves on
Like a series of shocks, but the contents are known

Oh faint heart, when the letter arrives
You suddenly find things getting life-size

Once the air rang with things unsaid
Now cruel outlines are easily read
Behind the curtain, in the yellow bulb light
The letter reads: I took my own life

Men 2nd

Sailing under a false flag
We're crossing the IDL
Becalmed where no creature lives

Lost, forsaken, cursed

Holed below the water line
A shift in the plimsoll line
Pumps in the engine room

Women and children first

Hysterical, no humour
Sabotage, a rumour
Captain-less and captionless

Injury, hunger, thirst
Reptile, prehensile, servile, editorial, gentile, fatal

Marooned

An unwilling sailor adrift from Arctic waters
As the water gets warmer, my iceberg gets smaller

As he pours more petrol on, he feels no fear
As the flames get nearer, his thoughts get clearer

A blue-white polar bear arrives at the end
Diverting his attention, his feelings froze over

I'm only a runaway AWOL at the logical start
Not present in the present, overboard with limited future

And I'm standing alone, still getting a thrill
While the ship is afloat, he's losing his boat

Sand In My Joints

I've got sand in my joints
I'm counting the grains
And they're so sharp
I'm feeling the pain

I'm like King Canute's daughter
A lamb to the slaughter
My feet in the water
It's not what they think

It's not what it seems

Being Sucked In Again

A dorsal fin breaks the water
Salted meat a sudden relapse
Inference drawn from every word

Being sucked in again

Feeling numbed from anaesthetised flesh
Avoid disgrace, ideas still fresh
The gaping mouth, a fish-wive's dream

Bound and gagged your labour's saved
The cost minute, the rules are waved
No hand, no step, your labour's in vain

Heartbeat

I feel icy
I feel cold
I feel old
Is there something there behind me?
I'm sublime

I feel empty
I feel dark
I remark
I am mesmerised
By my own beat
Like a heartbeat
(In it's own beat)

Mercy

Crooks lay in a weighted state
waiting for the dead assassin
while the rust pure powder puffs,
a shimmering opaque red.
Papers spread, no-one driving,
we hurled direct ahead

the windows dark-green tinted,
the hearse a taxi instead.
Snow storms forecast imminently
in areas Dogger, Viking,
Moray, Forth, and Orkney.
Keeping cover in denuded scrub,
the school destroyed raised the club,
panic spreading with threat of fire.

Crowding beneath a layer of foam,
refugees intertwined, alone.

Within the institution walls,
in pastel blue, clinical white,
slashed red lipsticked walls, mercy nurse tonight.

Seems like dark grey stockings
in the raking torchlight with 4 AM stubble,
a midnight transvestite.

Outdoor Miner

No blind spots in the leopard's eyes
Can only help to jeopardise
The lives of lambs, the shepherd cries

An outdoor life for a silverfish
Eternal dust less ticklish
Than the clean room, a houseguest's wish

He lies on his side, is he trying to hide?
In fact it's the earth, which he's known since birth

Face worker, a serpentine miner
A roof falls, an underliner
Of leaf structure, the egg timer

I Am The Fly

Crawling, over your window, you think I'm confused
I'm waiting for the divergent wasp

To complete my current ruse

You use a plate-glass screen
To protect my chosen target

But there's an air-pellet hole
I can crawl through to you

I am the fly in the ointment
I can spread more disease than the fleas
Which nibble away at your window display
Yes, I am the fly in the ointment
I shake you down to say please as you
Accept the next dose of disease

I Feel Mysterious Today

Always cause for concern
When you're feeling quite bright
And your filament burns

I feel mysterious today
Everything is humming loudly
I feel mysterious today
Everything is coming this way

Is it ever appealing
To stand on a ceiling?
Observe the tension grow

Going walking abroad
Minus hat before dawn
Bats in profusion there

Did you ever conceive
That you too can leave
Exactly when you like?

From The Nursery

So truly jolly, an Xmas dolly
I talk on request, I'm never depressed
I'll wink a good time till someone pokes me
One big blue eye out

So simply heady, a birthday teddy
Punches make me bleat, this bare soul is sweet
Keeping you warm at night till someone rubs me
Hey, a fun-filled toy

Free on a tightrope lives the animal soap
Safe, used, been tested, body molester
Amphibious charm, scum in several baths
Has blurred my features

Would you like to say
What that silence was meant to intend?
Would you like to see
What violence these eyes can send
To your heart
From the nursery

Used To

Does the pain remain when the head is turned
And the body walks away? You used to know
Does nausea ensue when you chance upon a memory
Of someone you used to know?
Does warmth increase when the pulse is strong
But the response is weak? You used to know

I just lay down guidelines in front of me
It's similar to the things you do to me

I'll give you an example typically
It's less complicated than it simply should be

Too Late

Oh you should miss her, she says she's my sister
She's never hard to find
She's tender-trusting, she's everlasting
Can I change my mind?

Is it too late to change my mind?

Mirror, mirror, icy sister
Love is never blind
She's slowly turning, mouth gently burning
Can I change my mind?

She pisses icy water on poetic mornings
Got to be cruel to be kind
Is this real life, is it for life?
Can I change my mind?

154

I Should Have Known Better

In an act of contrition
I lay down by your side
It's not your place to comment
On my state of distress
For this is for real
I've tears in my eyes
Am I laughing or crying?
I suggest I'm not lying

I haven't found a measure yet to
Calibrate my displeasure yet so

To ignore my warning
Could be your folly
The judgement is harsh
I offer no plea

Valuing the vengeance which you treasure
I've redefined the meaning of vendetta

The procession's disordered
You protect your possessions
In light of your actions
I question your love

May I make an observation
Your bite is worse than my aggression

I should have known better
I should have known better
Than to become a target
Albeit a target which moves

No offer of terms or concessions
For statements or confessions
You don't feel warm, I pass close by

You shiver, I whisper
Excuse me, what's your problem?
Oh, I see
I should have known better

Two People In A Room

Two people in a room
Facial movements betray
A private display
Of nervous disorder
And mutual torture

Two people in a room
Bloody image is conjured
But no one is injured
The weapons are chosen
But the action is frozen

Two people in a room
Positions are shifted
The ceasefire uplifted
The lighting is fierce
It's intended to pierce
Any cloak of deceit
And encourage retreat
And God they're so gifted
My God they're so gifted

The 15th

Reviewed, it seemed
As if someone were watching over it
Before it was
As if response were based on fact

Providing, deciding, it was soon there
Squared to it, faced to it, it was not there

Renewed, it fought
As if it had a cause to live for
Denied, it learned
As if it had sooner been destroyed

Providing, deciding, it was soon there
Squared to it, faced to it, it was not there

Reviewed, it fought
As if someone were watching over it
Before it had sooner been denied
Renewed, it seemed
As if it had a cause to live for
Destroyed, it was later based on fact

The Other Window

He took his seat on the foreign train
He thought it pleasant to travel again
Mindful of the journey's end
He read again the letter from his friend

Time passed as it often does

The seat was hard, the carriage fetid
He was dressed for summer, but still he sweated
It was better than being home
Feeling the cold, and living alone

Time passed slowly

Around him people spoke in French
Despite schooldays it made no sense
Occasional stares caught his eye
He was tempted to smile, but

Being shy, time passed

When he looked through the window
For the thousandth time
He saw a black horse fighting for its life

In a barbed wire fence
Fatally tangled
The more it struggled
The more it was strangled

Time sped up

He turned away
What could he do?
The other window
Had a nicer view

Time passed painfully

Single K.O.

I've found something
No one else is looking for
I've found something
That there's no use for

And what's more
I'm keeping it to myself

I'm leaning over backwards
Shoulders pressed to the floor
I'm leaning over backwards
Shoulders pressed to the door

Two falls or one submission
Or a single K.O.
Two falls or one submission
Or a single K.O.
But what's one submission
Amongst friends?

A Touching Display

With all the front
And more besides
Bitch, thrust, and parry
And a few asides
With considerable charm
You chose not to decide

I really like you
Becomes my massage
I really want you
Becomes my message

But how long can we sustain
Ourselves apart?
The pressure's increasing it
Squeezes my heart

I bought a ticket
You took a walk
So much to say
We're unable to talk
Suffering in silence
Our eyes give it away
So close as we part
A touching display
Colouring my thoughts
Predominately grey and

Fighting bravely
Will she save me?
From what or who
I do not know

On Returning

You'll be sorry when the sun has roasted you to
Lobster red, nothing said
When yellow has turned green to brown, divide by four
Multiply by nine, describe your divisions, anatomical derision

Lobster head and lobster feet
On arriving with a third language
Tucked into your briefcase, next to your toothbrush
Along with a copy of the Nouvelle Observateure

While your sons and daughters who registered nought
Under intensive electronic scanning
You regard your body with regard to events
Which with nothing planned

Never lacked a sense of theatre
On returning with the tan you've gained
A head of world service, the best of your culture
An evening of fun in the metropolis of your dream

A Mutual Friend

As a mutual friend it was difficult to pretend
That I was anything less than concerned

Hearing of your troubles
Has forced me to double
My interest in your current affairs

It's no use despising a new unknown horizon
Now your son has set his sights on the moon

So precipitous a decision has clouded your vision
And altered the pitch of your tune

Please don't turn a deaf ear to the noises you hear
While savagely your love you prune
For he might replace the old with the moon
He might replace the old with the moon

In March, April, May, and June
July, August, September, soon
He might replace the old with the moon
It could be October
November, or even December
So in January and February, remember

He might replace the old with the moon
He might replace the old quite soon

Blessed State

Closing doors
Opens eyes
To the fatal gift
Of a well timed lie
Loved in the flesh
And (but) butchered in the mind
Oh what a pearl
What a well made world

Holy globe
Eternal home
Sacred sphere
So glad I'm here
Oh what a pearl
What a well made world

Once Is Enough

It's sinister

I'd attempt a casual structure
Preceding interaction
Symphonic in persuasion
Noblesse oblige

Each minister

Is just a drop compared with
Having double vision
It's desirable in part
Refuse the ruse

Deciding each devise
If you don't think twice
Once is enough, once is enough
Preparing its demise
It's something you'll devise
Once is enough, once is enough

In passing

You sprang a leak instead
You'd sooner see its piety
You'd replied in its course
Before you

Resume transmission

You retiring

I'll respond with curtained thought
A pause for intermission
My advise is simple

Map Ref 41°N 93°W

An unseen ruler defines with geometry
An unrulable expanse of geography
An aerial photographer over-exposed
To the cartologist's 2D images knows
The areas where the water flowed
So petrified, the landscape grows
Straining eyes try to understand
The works, incessantly in hand
The carving and paring of the land
The quarter square, the graph divides
Beneath the rule, a country hides

Interrupting my train of thought
Lines of longitude and latitude
Define and refine my altitude

The curtain's undrawn
Harness fitted, no escape
Common and peaceful, duck, flat, lowland
Landscape, canal, canard, water coloured

Crystal palaces for floral kings
A widespread waving span of wings
Witness the sinking of the sun
A deep breath of submission has begun

Indirect Enquiries

You gained respect as we passed
Not a wave, a gestured wink
I was forced to think
I couldn't ignore
I've seen you before

Joking aside, face to face
It's the one I cannot place
A hint might enlarge your imprint
I think I've had a taste of a savoury
Denial would be a waste

Lying prone
Hiding in a column, between SALE and ZDRK
Sky, sand, and moorland, shepherd's delight
But not in the sun
Which stops you from walking

I might find you
But I lack the patience
Passed a corner, you'd been stolen
Ate a meal, you'd been defaced

40 Versions

I never know which version I'm going to be
I seem to have so many choices open to me

It's not hard to see another unique event
When you miss the beginning and you miss the end

I've got forty versions all dying to get the part
And so with a change of mind comes a change of heart

A total eclipse arrives now and Niagara Falls
No loss of blood yet and no further calls

I never know which version I'm going to be
I get the feeling my mind is deceiving me

In between are where only edges can be seen of the spaces

Live at the Roxy

The Commercial

[instrumental]

Mary Is A Dyke

[words by George Gill—lost in the mists of time]

Too True

Too true, too true

Saying something's got to be a way
Of saying nothing in another way
Don't use your ears, don't use your eyes
I'll give you something, don't you realise

I've got something, you've got nothing, and it's
Too true, too true

Look again and I might have changed
I'm just the same, only rearranged
I'm in the mirror, only you ain't looked
A missing page from your picture book

Just Don't Care

Just don't care now

I just don't care, I just don't care
I just, I just, I just don't care anymore

Oh no, oh yeah, oh no

Would you like to see what that silence was meant to mean?
Would you like to see what violence these eyes could send?

But I just don't know
You know, 'cause I just don't care

Strange

There's something strange going on tonight
Something going on that's not quite right
Joey's nervous and the lights are bright
There's something going on that's not quite right

There's something going down that wasn't here before
Keep your eyes glued to the floor
No one's gonna save your life
Something strange is going on tonight

Brazil

It's true darling, I'll walk you home, I'll be your date forever
I love you girl, I love you, until they split the atom

So many times there's nothing left, there's nothing left at all
I know I'm right, 'cause when you're gone, there's nothing left at all

Left, right, salute

It's So Obvious

It's so obvious, it's here, it's there
It's not just the colour, it must be more
At least 17+3 score
This is '77, nearly heaven
It's black, white, and pink, just think
There's more to come
Hum hum hum hum
It's so obvious

Well it's all right, just listen, can't wait for '78
God those RPM, can't wait for them, don't just watch
Hours happen, get in there kid and snap them

Three Girl Rhumba

Think of a number, divide it by two,
something is nothing, nothing is nothing.
Open a box, tear off the lid,
then think of a number, don't think of an answer.
Open your eyes, think of a number,
don't get swept under, a number's a number

A chance encounter you want to avoid, the inevitable,
so you do, oh yes you do the impossible

Now you ain't got a number, you just want to rhumba,
and there ain't no way you're gonna go under

Go under

TV

Well, I hope you feel better
I can fly a jet a
And the water feels wetter
Any girl, I can get her

On TV

I can fly to India
Afghanistan, America
Any place I want to see
Any place I want to be

I could make a million cry
Sit down, see them die
I can be anyone
It's a lot of fun

My TV

And when I've had enough
I don't switch off
I turn my set to channel 3
It's the only place to be

Straight Line

My mind is unwilling and your flesh is so weak
Do my movements betray the secrets I think?
I always stand by walls and try to humour fools

Am I moving in a straight line?

Oh, it's unlust and the one-dimensional boy

Lowdown

The time is too short but never too long
to reach ahead, to project the image,
which will in time become a concrete dream.

Another cigarette, another day,
from A to B, again avoiding C, D, and E,
'cos E is where you play the blues.
Avoiding a death is to win the game,
to avoid relegation, the big E.

Drowning in the big swim, rising to the surface

The smell of you
That's the lowdown

Feeling Called Love

What is this feeling called love?
What is this crazy thing I can't explain anyhow?
What is this feeling called love?
What is this crazy scene I can't work out anyhow?

Maybe I should try it now
Or maybe I should be shy of it now
COs there's nothing you know that can explain it
And there's nothing you know that's worth the pain of it

What is this feeling called love?
What is this thing I can't work out no how?
What is this feeling called love?
What is this thing I don't understand no how?

Gimme love

New York City

I want to go to New York City
Where the buildings are too tall
I want to go to New York City
Where even angels fall
Here comes one now!

I want to learn to say, "Hi, Mac"
And I shall bring a movie back
I want to get too too excited
When I go to New York City
I'm going now

12XU

Saw you in a mag (smoking a fag), kissing a man

I got you in a corner (cottage), got you in a corner

12XU

Mr Suit

I'm tired of being told what to think
I'm tired of being told what to do
I'm tired of f——ing phonies
That's right, I'm tired of you

No, no, no, no, no, no, Mr Suit

You can take your f——ing money and shove it up your arse
'Cause you think you understand, well it's a f——ing farce
I'm tired of f——ing phonies
That's right, I'm tired of you

And if you turn and walk out that door
And take your f——ing money, let me tell you what it's for
I'm tired of f——ing phonies
That's right, I'm tired of you

Live at CBGB Theatre

Men 2nd

Sailing under a false flag
We're crossing the IDL
Becalmed where no creature lives

Lost, forsaken, cursed

Holed below the water line
A shift in the plimsoll line
Pumps in the engine room

Women and children first

Hysterical, no humour
Sabotage, a rumour
Captain-less and captionless

Injury, hunger, thirst
Reptile, prehensile, servile, editorial, gentile, fatal

Reuters

Our own correspondent is sorry to tell
Of an uneasy time that all is not well

On the borders there's movement
In the hills there is trouble
Food is short, crime is double

Prices have risen since the government fell
Casualties increase as the enemy shell
The climate's unhealthy, flies and rats thrive
And sooner or later the end will arrive

This is your correspondent, running out of tape
Gunfire's increasing, looting, burning, rape

106 Beats That

If he had a room, he'd paint it white,
survives the day, prefers the night,
build slight

Got a head for figures
No time for bicker(er)s
(Or so he says)
Prefers the company of a woman

Finds it more physical (that's an important word),
always seen first then heard,
such a rare bird

With praise he glows, with change he grows, finds that important, hates waiting, it's not stimulating, likes celebrating, I can't understand why that is so funny, that is sex

From The Nursery

So truly jolly, an Xmas dolly
I talk on request, I'm never depressed
I'll wink a good time till someone pokes me
One big blue eye out

So simply heady, a birthday teddy
Punches make me bleat, this bare soul is sweet
Keeping you warm at night till someone rubs me
Hey, a fun-filled toy

Free on a tightrope lives the animal soap
Safe, used, been tested, body molester
Amphibious charm, scum in several baths
Has blurred my features

Would you like to say
What that silence was meant to intend?
Would you like to see
What violence these eyes can send
To your heart
From the nursery

Dot Dash

Mist closing in, getting thicker
One drops out, becoming quicker
Lights grow dim, they glimmer
The chances smaller, the odds are slimmer

Dot dash, dim flash, don't crash

Loosening my grip
Be sure to tread carefully
Steering a passage
Finding a line

Crosses on fire, crossfire
Progressive acceleration, skidding but the expression
Remains pan, radiators for all
Radial, I'm still in control, I understand, a hand, a hand moved me

Driven by self-propulsion
Turning right across the stream
The risks increased with sustained leisure
Courting death, so ill at ease

Another The Letter

Passed to hand, behind the curtain
The letter brings change, now things are uncertain
Hand to hand, the letter moves on
Like a series of shocks, but the contents are known

Oh faint heart, when the letter arrives
You suddenly find things getting life-size

Once the air rang with things unsaid
Now cruel outlines are easily read
Behind the curtain, in the yellow bulb light
The letter reads: I took my own life

Practice Makes Perfect

Practice makes perfect, yes I can prove it
Business or pleasure, the more that you do it

Please dress in your best things, this course was unplanned
'Cos you see up in my bedroom I've got Sarah Bernhardt's hand

Practice makes perfect, I've done this before
Never for money, always for love

Please dress in your best things, and don't make a fuss
'Cos you see up in my bedroom Sarah's waiting for us

Marooned

An unwilling sailor adrift from Arctic waters
As the water gets warmer, my iceberg gets smaller

As he pours more petrol on, he feels no fear
As the flames get nearer, his thoughts get clearer

A blue-white polar bear arrives at the end
Diverting his attention, his feelings froze over

I'm only a runaway AWOL at the logical start
Not present in the present, overboard with limited future

And I'm standing alone, still getting a thrill
While the ship is afloat, he's losing his boat

I Am The Fly

Crawling, over your window, you think I'm confused
I'm waiting for the divergent wasp

To complete my current ruse

You use a plate-glass screen
To protect my chosen target

But there's an air-pellet hole
I can crawl through to you

I am the fly in the ointment
I can spread more disease than the fleas
Which nibble away at your window display
Yes, I am the fly in the ointment
I shake you down to say please as you
Accept the next dose of disease

Lowdown

The time is too short but never too long
to reach ahead, to project the image,
which will in time become a concrete dream.

Another cigarette, another day,
from A to B, again avoiding C, D, and E,
'cos E is where you play the blues.
Avoiding a death is to win the game,
to avoid relegation, the big E.

Drowning in the big swim, rising to the surface

The smell of you
That's the lowdown

Mercy

Crooks lay in a weighted state
waiting for the dead assassin
while the rust pure powder puffs,
a shimmering opaque red.
Papers spread, no-one driving,
we hurled direct ahead

the windows dark-green tinted,
the hearse a taxi instead.
Snow storms forecast imminently
in areas Dogger, Viking,
Moray, Forth, and Orkney.
Keeping cover in denuded scrub,
the school destroyed raised the club,
panic spreading with threat of fire.

Crowding beneath a layer of foam,
refugees intertwined, alone.

Within the institution walls,
in pastel blue, clinical white,
slashed red lipsticked walls, mercy nurse tonight.

Seems like dark grey stockings
in the raking torchlight with 4 AM stubble,
a midnight transvestite.