Prices OF This is just fortune And Boom!

I made everything clear with her before she left,
 We would see how we felt whilst she was away,
A chance to develop our confidence while we were apart.
I can't say that I feel nothing, If I did then I couldn't
bear to live with myself, I mean what sort of man would I be by not missing her, Well I do thats all, and Ive said the things I missed.
I guess you don't realise what you have till its gone, but I could move on it's just that moving on as I am trying to makes me feel sad.
 I don't know how to describe my feelings,
 I'm so used to repressing them and not having anyone to listen to how I feel.
Or being mocked for not been a man.

When you have nothing itsí time to move on.
Why did you ask me to help you
Lie down and forget the future.
The pollen came right off in your hands,
From that flower that I found that was pressed when you were 10
Donít you remember what a sweet girl you were
I donít because I was never the right kind of father to you,
Your mother never let me see you,

She said you never needed to know me.
You didnít know how much that hurt.
But just for a while.

Now you bothered to find me, and for that at least Iím grateful
Why blame me when I can blame myself.
I didnít do anything and thatís the point.

Kind of like splitting.Kind of like splitting.Kind of like splitting.Kind of like splitting.Kind of like splitting.


Looking out in the dark street I saw the shape and form,
Of the shadows cast by the empty cars, and
I closed the door because I didnít feel that hungry
And It was probably going to rain anyway.

So another day spent and so I havenít lived yet.
So the next year will probably be packed with anecdotes
And gritty realism that I craved at 19,
I didnít grow up I just got older.

So where does the inspiration come from
If I was loved then maybe it would be enough
If I was worth ten of her, One day Iíll quit my
whoring job, what with computers ruling the world
Should be grateful, but you gave me hope,

Evenings spent in wishing we were out ( )
You with your canvases, me with my empty head
And ecstasy.
And the Friday night was the highlight, Saturday was a drop zone
But things made sense, and got boring after a while, a lot made scenes
From  Fellini
Truth is we all spoke In tongues, and me with my temper.
Things are going to get worse before they wind up better,
When I look in your eyes I ignore the tears and I recite of myself,

Eating away at your conscience, The ideas arenít flowing the pressure
And lobotomy of the monotony scoffs.

Time to the attack the plans, to quit
To start our new life
Remember the future, worked out fine.
Get away and build your new life.
Out of this room, out of this country
And go live by the sea, kicking sand on the beach before breakfast
Part-time waiter and the rest would be painting. No family in the way,
Friends who we only went drinking with.

But we stayed here for the time being.
Where was I what did I say,
Who made all those harsh words go away,
What was I thinking just a moment ago
Nothing but fear of the bastard unknown
Where I go I know not where
I can no longer masturbate through my underwear
I no longer shuffle naked in my dreams
I wake up to suffer and with a smaller whimper
Stiff as a board and twice as bored
I lie awake listening to the beating of sparrow's
wings  that flap around my window,
farewell to the painters and stagger home.

Friend in america,

Laughing at me
Why are you looking at me
Havenít we said all that there is to say all in vain
shared a shower of shame
Fall out of bed, and you fell on my head
Theres No reason for empty tears to empty on my face
Didnít all I say justify the means,
Made you want to leave, you need to be free
All I said and I didnít know
Forget how to live
Didnít you need me
Suffocated on my worries just ashamed of waiting
The future would have never happened anyway
Just standing in a supermarket
Looking around made me feel so helpless
Finding myself you said it so many times
Where as the pressure from time alone made me more desperate to speak
Just to see you oncce would be
You started work at the theatre
As a clown not much to write to me about
Go back to work  to send me an open ticket
Gifts you stole to buy me with.
Forced to go by the back door
Were you embarrased that I wore specs.
Lists of things to say Never hurt you once
Not that I meant to,
Walking in the drizzle it seemed more exciting at night to follow the blokes home
Nothing much in this crafty city wanting
All that I do and what I destroyed,
Patiently I stand my the phone too nervous to sit, your long distance calls
Donít let me down
Thoughts of leaving home, their home, the one with the master at home.
Round shouldered by the age of 15 you werenít so
Full of yourself make the most
Of being so young, I ripped away your smile.

Thereís somebody for thereís someone for everyone
Please donít let me hang, push me,  donít count on me wanting you
Just to Treat them mean, doesnít mean, youíll keep them always so keen
Company from the telly. Glowing fills in the daydreams
Hopeless gaptoothed smiling at my pretty reflection.

Born and Bred

SO You've tried the hardest you can try,
You're a little boy in a little girl's world,
you never felt the same things as the lads with tatoos
you're feeling sad for something  you can't put your finger on.

WHy did you come back
 you try to be different,
you dress for the left
you weren't bred for sucess
you don't know anyone famous
and neither do the folks back home

 bred for sucess
It only gets easier to forget and accept
to be bred for sucess
if only.

So back to the old country
where the rain it glistens on the cobbles
but it never rains it pours its just drizzle
where the old and desperate play monopoly in hovels
and try to pass the money in change for escape

She is scared by the sorry thoughts in her little boys head
He didn't mean to say those hurtful things he said
the words of the teenager so uninformed and spiteful
He's leaving the house tonight to get a hand hold on a skinfull

And so they stay awake to hear the key in the lock
the stumble against the stairs and the rumbling in the basin
They worry too much he thinks as he puts away the condoms
theres always another night and maybe an easier lay tommorrow

In the morning he's sad its so much easier for girls,
they have macke up and slapstick to cover up the acne
but a few magazines won't drown out the aching
Another day wasted, another day waiting


Just a drunken fumble took their lives in new direction
Unknown bedfellows enjoying the the evening,
seeing the morning come through in the piercing blue sky
No regrets, well just another but we can try to forget.

The fear
The anaesthetic, breathe she said breathe deeper, and let yourself go
if it happens it happens, it happens
and when it happens then you know it will happen

but lying there in beads I can turn to her and shiver it won't happen while I'm in control.


Sneaking into your room just to watch you sleep,
you didn't let on that you hated my life
when you did all the talking and I did all the watching
If I thought I Liked just being with her, It was
only the sharp tongue that did the lashing

Mumbled decisions, and drunken misfortune at the time
I could have given up at any time but now
I need that syrup to go on to make me happy, without
it all my wishings, stayed locked away inside.


So the girl in the next room in these hallowed halls is crying
I can't remember  the last time she ever stopped I don't want
to leave her but I've things to do,
AS longs as I know she's still crying .
When the Crying stops

Detune the radio to cut out the noise.
of the party in the next room, they
seem to be laughing, If I wasn't struck dumb when
my father used to hit me then I'd be jusk OK now, with no fear

She Came to me once with the evidence up her arms
I don't want to deal with these things anymore
but I can't let her be alone

I know no-one did the same for me,
but so what, there's worse things to be
than on the ward.


It's just the little things that keep you sane
When she squeezed my hand when I took her to school,
I knew that my bed would not be so empty tonight
a trip to the chemist, there'll be blood on the sheets tonight

Every day that passes we seem to be closer
her father has sworn and  called her a whore
but the thoughts of empty regret don't last
becasue when you feel the need

Is it not a crime is our love a crime,
is she too young too feel pleasure
Am I too old to supply her protection
she doesn't go with just any man
I look after all my girls,
I give her all the incentive she needs


And on and on I want to go for ever
I'm going out tonight to live and forget
When I get into town on the 645
I want to meet up with the pop kids
and join in maybe even meet someone like me
thats the big idea, the big plan,
jsut got to make more sense,
Such a classy girl she won't take the same old caveat, best not to prepare but
to introduce yourself, Make up a decent job
Hello I'm a musician, Oh how interesting, I save peoples lives she says
So do I say,
So what do I say
not realising
 the slash yer fodder that I spew forth
ends up spinning up gloomy weekends for the lonely hearted suburban kids,


He never read a book that he really enjoyed
I never watched television for less than the rest of my life
I foolishly expected more than company from a ride on the tube
I work hard , almost earn enough to almost get high

Come the weekend I'll be hungry for company
but there'll be none
SO why try when you look like me
says my friend so it's either desperation mingling
at the usual clubs haunts
or the alternative is not even worth thinkning about.

Lap  England

Flowers turn up, and you had to be arrested you came to see me every night
you sat in the front row and I noticed when you weren't there Like all good men
you threw your money at me


Have you ever felt bad about lying through your teeth
About a girl you said you like but just lent upon
A Prop to keep your nights from being so cold
and dark
A fool to love you while you think of your

Download your pleasure
Tenfold your anticipation
of the next click will bring floods of tears
to her eyes
if she saw you now, in the wee hours of the night

Song for Me

Socialise, this social life
Just to busy to make new friends
too much work to hang on to old friends

Under Par, Severely under Par
This song is not for comfort
Just the incentive, I don't want to
look down on your quiet evenings
no celebration of misery ,
really this life should be full
but you can't really do anything on your own
no-one can, best just leave it here
and stay and dream of Eastenders

In the night you might lay in bed the walls seem to be getting closer
 you shouldn't be getting
good night sleeps,
But you need your rest it'll be all for the best
Just another "Wait and see" and you'll be 23
same old themes
it's still a mean old scene,


When was the last night you can remember
When was the last all original good time
was it you don't you feel your ears burning
When you woke up with that guy you met did you feel no regret
wasn't it fun to sit out in the sun,
did the music play loud did you feel the throbbing move up to your head
Those morning after dues had to be paid, would you ever meet up
Could you ever respect ,
did he take a picture to add to his collection, did he even know your name at the time,
my guess is as good as yours I guess no.


A trip to the video shop was always the routine.
She said she wanted routine, and to be imortalised in a song
Naming no names she was a pretty sick pretty thing
not that you'd know until she'd had a few


My Old School Friend

A couple/
Nice Phase
Nice thing to have
He wouldn't really know, My old school friend
he can't go outside in the daylight,
he'd melt if he had to talk to a girl
he's  a drifter a chancer
never had romance
never gone beyond the ring road
never used a metaphor to describe experience
never had cause to feel lonely
he knows no other way
too quiet to talk
to repressed by his past
school days spent unrepetant
of times in the all male classes no dreams
of unrequited love
taking his fantasies out on the teachers
but they were older than his mum
He confesed this to me in his tired shattered
state, when he awoke,
 he lost so much fluid
he always gets like this at the weekend
and I'm the only one who his parents have the number of.

Speaking of Which
There's nothing to do but hang round
Talk faster with cider breath
too young to get fucked in a pub full of old men
Haven't you forgotten the good old days