The Perfect Concept Of A Date In Tatters

*An old one I wrote when I was 17 that I just came across*

Can you remember the times of yore
Walking down the empty dull lit steets
Locked together by a statment
Knowing were it was we were going
Their was no alternative to this lone routes
Nothing could in our wildest dreams could go wrong

But now the streets are clatered with people
The likes i’ve never witnessed before
Pouring in from taverns like the flood
Serving no purpose but to get in our way
But maybe i speak to soon on our behalf
As your lock on me is loosening ever so slowly

He wiskes you away in obscured visionary
All it ever takes is shelter and the deals done
You can’t take what you promised him now
But to take it from me is all to easy
Their is no lock, their is no streets, their are no people
Just walking aimlessly untill i find it agian

Never Before Have I Been So Relevent (W.I.P)

They set up land-mines and trip wires in the bar
Wetting their lips as they never avert their gaze from the door
All in hopes I’ll set off a C4 and set the place on fire
As my bloody corpse drops to their feet, so they can bring me up again
They’re like fish nibbling the flakes of my skin
In the Mediterranean all to just to be relevant in my legacy

Weather I’ve traced my hands through their very concious
Or I’ve just brushed past them in the college corridors
They’ll crush their spines to bend over backwards
Just to bring me up in conversation once again
The females love to recount old fables
Fictitious tales of the tyrant that barged in their lives
The males quake in their boots, hold their misses tighter
Spewing what if’s of my skull breaking on the curb

Bitches can’t get enough of the Switzer-man
Bitches can’t get enough of the Switzer-man

My vacancy means so little to their theories
I’m rocking it at another party with the unknowns
I could care less if you see me as a ballistic missile
It’s not like you’d ever break your monotonous weekend routines
To ever come and find me

Bitches can’t stop talking about the Switzer-man
Bitches can’t stop talking about the Switzer-man
Bitches can’t stop talking about the Switzer-man
Bitches can’t stop talking about the Switzer-man

I’ve never set foot in this dive, for half a year
And yet my name still echoes through the mugs themselves
No matter how many mousetraps they try to set up
And distribute them with Chinese whispers throughout my friends
I’d never set foot in this dive, not for another half a year
I got better things to do, then to satisfy your obsessive curiosity
I have no place here with the mildew of the town

I wish I’d never step foot in the sun
Just stayed at home where the mention of my name
Actually means a damn

Editors note: When preforming this live, I fully intend to replace ‘Bitches’ with naming and shaming the Boys and Girls who don’t stop yaking about yours truly

14/02/2014

At first, as if too marionette your actions, I feigned indifference at the offer
For a 30 quid overdraft in the name of smearing the dye of my jacket
Against the half price circa 1990 bargain bin wallpaper
All to the soundtrack of to a chart of the charts
All to the flavour of a 6 pack of lukewarm ale
I could’ve died and fallen to the bridge bar underworld

Until you stole my gaze, the second I caught your reflection in the fridge
The bar I could never reach, A ruby amongst the garnet
I knew I couldn’t live with myself, until I’ve exchanged language with you
A beer pong spectator, A greatest movie debater, A sexy story dictator
Whatever role you wish to play, it’s fine by me, as long as it keeps you talking to me
And I can keep seeing that intoxicating smile

As time treacles down the drain, along with the Rosé wine
Our cheeks have gone the way of the rouge stains on the carpet
As I bare a witness to the Aurora Borealis of the night
It’s when your eyes start to illuminate the room when you begin to divulge your passions
The way you describe the stage, it’s as if it’s a piece of Asgard on your little blue rock
Each description of how each cog turns the machine, gets me excited with you
I’d like to think I’m not so shallow as to lose my breath at the flex of intellect
But I can’t deny the saliva pushes against the palate, when these words leave your lips

You try and deter me with cautionary statistics, and ask to refocus my beer goggles
You sink your head into you chest as you lament about your vessel to me
I have to chuckle to myself, that you’d think such a thing would turn me away
As I engage in the one of my excruciation mental battles with my occipital lobe
You see it’s taking him a while to believe the mortal avatar of Aphrodite
Is still talking to me when she has a catalogue of Adonises to pick and mix from

You say I could do better, but baby don’t you understand
I’ve tasted the greatest soma, and it’s just apple squash
I’ve tangled with the most complex nous, and it’s just channel surfing
All in comparison to you, golden trophies turn into copper coins
I know I don’t deserve to clean the dirt between your toes
But if you feel generous, maybe I could loan a kiss or two from you
When our calves are in-between the shoes, pressed up against the front door
Seconds feel like days, when I’m so close to them mocha corneas

Each inch of your construction deserves my full attention
I could spend a millennium caressing each and every pour of your body with my lips
Timing each and every kiss, with the precision of a diamond cutter as I travel up your legs
Slither my way through your chest and leave my insignia on your neck, before returning to your lips
Oh darling I know I’m being greedy but if the outside is this outstanding
I struggle to comprehend what awaits me inside the grey matter
Let me sync with you my empress, let your inspiration and creativity pour into me
Just a second of exposure to that mind of yours, will lighten my entire life

Oh even if you choose to desert my shores this time tomorrow
And shoot for the stars you were clearly born to grasp in your hands
I’ll spend a lifetime in ecstasy, no matter how grey the skies will get
Just a second of nostalgia with my valentine, the silver will beam through the clouds
But if you ever decided that this lowly peon could be your man
I’d transcend to a state of a mind, that unfortunate mortals could never reach

Dedicated to B.B

The Valentine No Show (W.I.P)

My eyes they dry like a Sunday morning washing line
My lungs press together with a vice of your presence
I’m struggling to stay alive, just walking to your door
The body’s willing but their’s no air
I’m gasping on the floor it’s to much to bare!
The grip on my fingertips is starting to weaken
The choke on my glands is getting righter
The blood in my hands is getting thinner

But the thrill of young lovers can be deceiving indeed
We met both strategically clad in our battle armour
Ready to wage war like a DVD cover of a 80’s road flick
And yet we act like business men, handing out contact details
To arrange a transaction which we feel could benefit our brands
While you tend to your needs, I’ll play happy couples

I think it’s easy to claim you’d lay in wait on my sofa
On the frost bitten evenings, to stroke my scalp
To unplug the scalelectrix whirling around in my brain
When i’m tracing the stairway to heaven on your navel
And sending your eyes away to the back of your skull
If I held it all for ransom, would you still come back to help me?

I’ll allways be your best man, the one your ashamed to admit
That you think about when your future homeowner misses the mark
But you can never be anymore then a charity case to me girl
As I sit starting at the walls on the hill of the roller-coaster
Where will you be when I howl into the night asking for your love?
Would you be anywhere if I couldn’t offer a surge in return?
Would you be somewhere else when someone can do it better?
I know you wouldn’t my sweet, and I know that’s your right

Looks like I won’t be seeing around this St. Valentines
I know I wouldn’t, and I know that’s your bloody right

I Can Show You, What He Could Never Give You (W.I.P)

My fists clench with a force to crush diamonds themselves
When I hear that testimony utter from your lips
Could it really be so, during the age of information?
That inexperienced young minds could confuse that for love?
When he picks apart petrol station oaks to commemorate a landmark
When he leaves you frowning on the mattress on valentine nights
When he keeps positive vocabulary for ransom to keep you on his level
It’s gonna be a while till I pick my jaw from the floor

Oh my sherbet clad confectionery delight
Just itching to be taken home from the seaside stand
I’m not here to lug my bottom on cider stained leather
Advertising my self, by reading you my credentials
Point out every young pretty thing standing at the bar
Whom I’ve seen the very joints in their cheeks come apart
As they attempt to articulate the serge of electrons
I’ve conducted through their very forms
That would be rather crass of me to say here and now

I want you to take a shot into the unknown
I want you to open the ribs in your chest
To take a chance on the unfamiliar
To open your eyes to a world past a single body
Did he ever run his fingers through your hair?
Did he ever scrape his jaw against your neck?
To get the engines to warm up?
To get you in the mindset to make the offer yourself?

I doubt he had neither the time nor the care honey
Scrubbed the plaque of his choppers in math class
And left you for dead underneath his desk
That’s not love dear, that’s being picked apart by the wolves
I can bow down at your feet, the second I see your shadow cast
I wouldn’t just get the feeling back in your feet
I can make sure the feeling pours from your very sockets
You just don’t know it yet my princess

Hell (W.I.P)

I can’t recall how many times i’ve seen the lunar display
Enhanced by the sheen of the beer goggles
Since I had to unlock the handcuffs on your wrist
The notion of a month passing makes the mind boggle

The hands of the analog
Are making they’re second whip around for the day
The bunions of our feet can take the strain no more
We stagger to the nearest bench to lay

I know there are better ideas then issuing a response
To your little Morse code tappings up and down my legs
Like juggling TNT’s at a pyrotechnic festival blindfolded
But lagging hearts can only think in the short term

I’ll endure your intent even while I bleed
Anything to stop the dreams
What was a suggestion has become a plea
What was a want is now a need

Oh I’m in hell
Trying to crack a smile
Oh I’m in hell
Pulling the smoke over my lies
Oh I’m in hell
Trying to enjoy it all the while
Oh I’m in hell
Stuck inbetween these two thighs

I Can’t Stop You From Appearing In My Dreams

It’s 3:52pm and it’s now I hear
That the broadcasts from down under reach their peak
Even I admit that’s a weak excuse
But anything to put off crawling to them sheets
Anything to stave off meeting you again
In the one place you van still Influence me
Smack in the middle of smoky storybook aspirations

Westbound to a plain of intangible letters and sentences
Only in this sector of the concious
Where desires are interpreted for temporary manias
Do you stand before me again

All grudges flow out through our pours like black tar
The hate seeps through the husk in our breaths
The spite flakes off our very skin
All I have left to remember is to how to stay betrothed to you
I was no one else’s to lose but yours my love

Utilizing my muscle memory you lock your fingers with mine
Like claws on a tow truck you whisk me away
We take a quick hike from the town centre to yours
With the parts I can’t recall replaced with golden plated bridges
Connecting my recollections together

The ingrates that poisoned you have been purged
Their mouths stitched shut to stop them from bringing you down
It’s just you and I with the audience of the washing up
There isn’t a thing to fret about
Just how the sunlight highlights your genius design

The smoke flows from the floor boards
I smear it through the threads of your scalp
You inhale it through your regulated pants
As it pours from the ducts into your irises

Trace the curves of optimum natural selection
Grasp the wrist of a submitted romantic intention
Groove to the rhythm of a calculated routine
Play it back those glossy sweet sugarcane memories

The Clock hits 9 and caresses my eyelids
The reality kicks in and the mist starts to disappear
I beg my master to release her grip from my limbs
But her grip stays aggressive just like an anchor

She sinks her claws, digging deep into my wounds
She tugs from within my arms to keep me pressed against her chest
I can’t stand the guilt, the oh so familiar sting
How naive of me, for it was me who brung you here in the first place

An interpretation that’s all you are
A reflection of the reality, with a sweeter taste
And smoothed out edges
A version of you that doesn’t berate my birth wronging
While you demand I clean the wounds on your arms
As you leave the ones under my legs wide open

The hate floods back into my veins
As if to cue the pins and needles
It flows to my profile and forces my eyes open
For another cycle I’m free from your grip
Until my eyes grow heavy and then I’m yours again

True Femininity

A familiar drone infests the bar like tinnitus
It’s that of a innocent young thing of feminine decent
As tonight’s sideshows swarm to the last safe-heaven
Their clammy mitts play the role of the intruder
To locations only devotes and nannies should dare to probe
As she just stays stationary to the whole affair
Waiting for the horns of the masculine resistance
To come from the hill tops

Oh how refreshing it was to see you: stanced like a barbarian
As you watch his fingers slowly hover to the fringe of your jeans
Micro-molecules from collision, like a samurai wielding her katana
Your nails tear through his insufferable clans reptilian emblem
At a drop of a brow, he’s out the door

Oh sweet dear Bodacia
I’m unapologeticly devoted to you
Just bind me up do what you want to too
To feel the rush of a gash wound
From the heel of your regal studded boots

I’m yours to command, tell me what to do
I’m inspired by the mere comprehension of you
When I see the school dinner line of boys
Extending from where you stand at the bar
With their tails between their legs, Faces dropped like a Bulldog
There’s no misunderstandings, no unconsenting advances
A regular Kathleen Hanna for the Topshop age

Oh sweet dear Joan of Arc
I’m blind-sighted by the concept of you
Pin me up by the trachea till I turn blue
Drop me to the cobblestones under the moons hue
The boys might migrate to the smokers
When you showcase the canine choppers
But their isn’t anything I wouldn’t do
To get that look from you

Natrual 2nd Place

Insanity is doing the same process again and again
I can feel the membrains in my skull slowly melt away
When I scroll through Reed for the 30,000 time
Expecting a different result from before

Hours and hours of ironing out your personalty
Out of every word and movement on inspection day
All for a condescending smirk while they show you door
And that’s the last you’ll ever hear from them again

Even being kicked to the curb provides no salvation
Hypocritical bottom feeders begin to throw their pebbles
They were only face down in the gutter last week
It’s all to easy to forget your past with all that money

What do I have to do to earn their respect?
Flagellate myself with a secondary whip?
Don’t I have the right to toil and slave?
Don’t I have the right to self worth?

Of course not
It’s hopeless
The pharaohs
And emperors
Seek perfection
Second natures
And buzzwords
You’re ignorant
And broken
Why don’t you
Lay your head down
Feed on our
Generosity
You could never
Live your life
Like normal men
Sleep tight
My angel
No one’s
Going to judge
Sleep tight
My angel

A hundred million virgin souls
Strung up by blood soaked rusty wires
All for that taste of the 9 to 5
Something in this world has got to give
It’s either their unrealistic expectations
Or it’s my cervical vertebrae upon the rope

26/03/06 > 03/04/10

I sit in the aftermath of a rotten moment
Bathed in the darkness of modern designs
Head perched in hands my mind fades back
And I move my head to your direction

I could swallow domestic sadness on any other day
But on the eve of parental celebration I do struggle
The guest of honour was never expected to show
It still seems impossibly so

I’m sorry I never think of you, as much as I should
But I never had the heart to do so before
Somehow if I tilt my head towards the heavens
I think my words reach you, where ever they go

I’m sorry I never speak to you, as much as I should do
It’s not as if I couldn’t speak about you
I’m sorry I moved on too fast, the others needed me too
Stability is the only thing I could do
I’m sorry if I kept it all to myself, no one would see me through
To be a burden is something I won’t do
I’m sorry if this all isn’t needed, but I felt I had too
On the eve on a day dedicated to you

I’m sorry for the sharpness of my tongue; I pardon myself for my French
I’m sorry for the distance I keep; I know you wouldn’t agree with it
I’m sorry for my wild instincts, your furniture deserves better
Even if you can’t hear, I feel I should’ve still
There’s still a while to go, I still couldn’t do you wrong
I only hope

I’m sorry for every time for the times, I’ve moped about all day
I know you’d kick me for acting that way
I’m sorry for how I tired to soften the blow, and kept you away
I just wouldn’t know what else to say
And I’m sorry it took so long, for even through song to say
As we slowly approach the month of may
This is the last time I’ll use you now, to vent my selfish ways
I promise next time we’ll talk on a good day

Just cos I never came through till the end
Don’t think I never loved you
When I forgot to call you back when I was out
Don’t think I never loved you
When I locked myself upstairs and refuse to come out
Don’t think I never loved you
When I freeze at the sight of tears
Don’t think I never loved you
When I stayed downstairs when I heard you moan
Don’t think I never loved you
When I didn’t cry when it was all over
Don’t think I never loved you
When I saw that smile on your passing face
I knew you finally found peace
And when I grinned after I left your room
But it was only cos I loved you

Dedicated to ma’