Welcome to the Documentation. This page is home to all the words I write, whether they turn into songs, poems, or something along those lines. The writing is the foundation on which I build all my works, the glue holding me together. It is easier, healthier to keep all of this, than to let it sit in my head or a Google Doc.
DOCUMENTATION
350ppm CO2
It can be a very small world
On the matter of this spill
The mother of all spills
I’m hearing zilch
Fuck all, nothing and nish
Oil pasts and futures
Try to parse it again
Poison ivy
Draw it in
Is this really all there is?
Is this it?
Won’t somebody think of the futures?
Your final alienation
Your boss lets you in on a secret
“We recruited the best of the best’s teachers
The cliff, we drove off back in 1988
And we knew every step of the way
Drill baby, drill
Drill baby, drill
God has ordained it
He has oiled our futures
A slip’n’slide beyond belief
Our futures are oiled indeed”
Deal Or No Deal
You look for a damn good reason
And I’ll find us the cure-all
Between us we could cross the barrier
And leave this cruelty’s thrall
Ol’ Sol beaming holes in our retinas
For we were too easy-going
The train conductor’s temper tantrum
Comes at the behest of shit all
A wavering faith in a power as high
As the cranes they ought to hang us from
And a lust for life only at the expense
Of all the expanse in our orbit
A slingshot ’round the king’s roundtable
Into every crevice of personality
A cruel joke we can’t not find funny
As the humour festers evermore
Until we hit the character limit
Followed by the brick wall
The offer’s on the table
The box within the box
Twirling ’round the wheel
Trying all your luck
Cashing all your chips
Even the one on your shoulder
Phoning all your friends
Even the ones in the rearview
Staying well in your lane
Keeping to the sidelines
Catching all that game
Snapping all those spines
Like a book in bad shape
The sentiment’s the same
Deal or no deal, a steal
Oh, these games we play
Until we hit the character limit
Followed by the brick wall
Pretty Pretty
Fireball in a fireball
Shame that
It was a pretty pretty world
Eaten by its mold
Laughing all the way to the bank
The food bank, that is
Hungry for congealed blood
And bubbling skin
The ice in the glass is gone
Melted by contraptions
A Jenga tower of relations
Falling falling down
Like a drunk in a nuclear blast
Or a muscle contraction
Contracted in iron clad print
We’ll see what’s what on the other side
Let’s Put The Phones Down Now
And damned we are for our insolence
And shunned we are for our limerence
And hanged we are for our foolishness
And bland we are in our tastelessness
And we are sick
And we are tired
And we are slick
And we inquire
Into matters we should not concern ourselves with
Inserted into lives we’d do best not to mess with
Let’s put the phones down now
And sit with ourselves for a minute
You Are Reading Tea Leaves And Nothing More
It must’ve got mixed up, strangled or beaten up
The earnest expression of our moral pleas
Morals? Please, for you but not for me
Us Oxford boys, we’ll do what we please
You can put all your words onto slips of paper
And throw them all into the hat
Shake it or stir it or burn it, whatever
It isn’t insightful if you’re a fucking twat
The sky turns green as the world’s machines
Pillage every last inch of the Middle East
We pretended we did not like this before
Little babies’ eyes laying on the sidelines
You are reading tea leaves and nothing more
You thought I had something to say
And don’t forget because of who’s on our side
We can wipe you out any fucking time
Another expansion and annexation
In our occupation of all of your minds
We should put you in a hole, or we should put you down
Regardless, we can keep you out of sight and mind
Instead we’ll rake in the loyalties from the brand
Until we drive off the Italian mountainside
We’ve frosted the window into our minds
Because the cash and kudos got inside
Why would I care about Al-Amiriyah
If Gaza was not a fucking red line?
You are reading tea leaves and nothing more
You thought I had something to say
A Confusion Of Acceleration
Living amongst the chrysanthemums
Nails stained like amber ashtrays
The vodka flows all the way to the top
There’s a cocktail to be made
When you’re slinging mud in this tar pit
Those wet wax wings won’t last you long
There’s more than one way to skin a fact
On remote control, drone patrolled
The best documented event in antiquity
And it doesn’t even register
This tiny town do not feel mine
At the mercy of stickerbombed firearms
A confusion of acceleration eats the floor
And smoke billows from the beer gardens
Their flags rise and sail above the streetlights
“So what’s your biological name, huh?”
We should put another data bank here
‘Cause it’s only weeks or seconds
Until the competition beats us out
Shot by their executive functions
The green skies, blue hills, red blood
And every colour of revolution
Exhausted by all the surprises
The class is going back to sleep
Surviving the gaslightenment
Is not as easy as you think
Radicalized Depression
“Things just ain’t the same anymore, man”
“Something changed along the way, man”
I could tell you, but it’d just crush you
Like a spilled merlot in a mudslide
Our underestimation was flying off the charts
Then the Murdoch pressure cooker bomb went off
A curse wrapped round our necks of our dedication
To our second order side effects and all
It just makes you so mad
It all just makes you feel so mad
All raging bulls with no impulse control
Waiting for the camel’s wall to fall
The high crown of petrochemical comes-a-knocking at your door
Welcome back to hell on earth, my friends
The time for us to hear your thoughts has come to an end
The time for us to hear your screams has only just begun
“Who needs a theory of mind, man?”
“We can all busk it just fine, man”
It just makes you so mad
It all just makes you feel so mad
All raging bulls with no impulse control
Humming your pocket piper’s tune all the way down the waterfall
“Nothing bad can happen, man”
“Nothing bad can happen, man”
“What could even happen, man?”
“What can really happen, man?”
“Nothing bad can happen, man”
“It can only good happen, man”
“My God actually entered creation and suffered and died
And it’s all for our benefit, man”
Grab The Hats!!
His day ends with a kiss from a 30.06
A casus belli with a high-powered bang
A groyper lone wolf and his handlers too
And a bayonet to carve out easy ends
They cut down and run as the job was done
They took him with them but forgot all his blood
Pretended he’d lived for at least two more hours
A crime of convenience in every respect
And the civvies on the ground made a beeline for the hats
You chuck em up on ebay, you could make a hefty buck
And if you got a bloody one, it’s Vegas and good luck
Until you’ve fucked it all and back to vans, rags and bones
The hard part was done and all that was left
Was corralling the bulls into formation
As if the bulls even needed an excuse
They’d been waiting for this shit for years
Riding the wave came the next age of rallies
The ones you see live and you know you’ve arrived
At a pretty disadvantageous time to be alive
For you but more importantly your enemies
So the civvies on the ground made a beeline for the hats
Chuck em up on ebay, you could pay your rent next month
And no-one around you can call you a cunt
For bringing this terror upon us
The last thing they needed was the final straw
And they had to take the rest of the eggs
They outsourced the cracking and back came truckbeds
And shiploads with shitloads of eggshells
The big data banks and the banks did the rest
You could swim through the flooded internet
Fattening them up with violence and grievance
But at least they still had all their guns
And they were just grabbing the hats
Under oppressive fire tucked behind a pillar
Between shooting back and reading the chat
They were just grabbing the hats