Saturday, September 10, 2005
Impossible songs & fairytale management have opened up a huge gold bullion and snake-leg mining operation on a massive plot of cyber-land out there somewhere. Floating out on a cloudy, wavy, choppy, wet cyber-sea. We call it our little scruffy sugar-palm plantation of music and ideas, with schemes of dark blue and concrete grey, audio and mystical, heretical and strangely political, a fanatical and futuristic evolving bit of space. It needs some friends.
As Jimi Hendrix once said “It’s very far away, takes about a half a day to get there, if we travel by my dragonfly, no it’s not in Spain, but just the same you know it’s a groovy name, and the wind’s just right…”
The space is www.myspace.com/impossiblesongs
Sunday, September 04, 2005
The way you walk,
Talk about how you talk,
Take a little trickle
Don’t believe your public,
They’re so fickle
They know you believe the statistics
And the words of those mystics
Who sold you the cheapest lies.
“To keep me real!” you said, surprised.
They let you break down,
They want to see you breakdown,
Is that one word or two?
Do you know what you ought to do?
I couldn’t believe you’re in this pickle,
I felt nauseous and a little sickle.
I thought of how you look
I counted up the time you took
To tell me the truth about myself
To review a reflection of someone else.
All this beggars belief,
(To use the language of a politician)
Before you take me in,
So bleak and yet so cool
So wild and yet so calm
I can’t detect that sense of alarm,
You give out,
When I give in.
I stole this riff
I stole another man’s wife
I stole the keys to your car
And I drove it back Fife.
I punched a waiter who annoyed me
I spat my gum down on the street
I smoked a cigar and I burned your dress
Then told you “you are really sweet”.
I blew my horn aloud at midnight
I spilled my drink into your lap
I said you had faithful boyfriend
But I know he won’t be coming back.
I stole a lyric from Bob Dylan
But I’m not the only one who did
I stole a melody from Johan Strauss
And sold the CD for ten quid.
I checked a pornographic website
When I was logged in your account
I stole your pin number and credit card
And spent the most obscene amount.
I told your father I’d support you
I told your mother you’d be fine
I told your sister she was beautiful
And touched her leg from time to time.
They caught me when I’d had one too many
They caught when I wasn’t at my best
I had to phone so I could tell you
I’m just the same as all the rest.
I’m just the same as any sinner
We’re on that level playing field
I do just what I can get away with
I have to get the things I need.
There is no benchmark for behaviour
There is no good or bad
You do the things you have to do
Stop yourself going mad.