Acoustic Prodigies are the Drug of Choice.

Every time some new 18 year old kid with an acoustic guitar comes along who writes songs about "what life's about" or how "they've moved on from that girl" they're considered some sort of prodigy. You get the same kid making noises, seemingly pointless noises, white noise, brown noise, pink noise, and they're considered an idiot. Or so it seems.

Both have merit. Both have their place. But there's a pedestal. There's no room for originality any more, lyrically and musically, it's all been taken, and someone's got to work harder to claw it back.

Ed Sheeran is the most pirated artist in the UK. He sings songs about being on sort of team, and about being drunk. This is old hat. Write songs without lyrics. Or meaning. Or structure. Ill advised, however, if you fancy making a buck or two.

Love (the cruelty of).

Love breeds hate, we are her children,
lost and scared, blasé and meek.
We curse the ones who left us lonely
and blame the ones who made us weak.

Love will shove you to the ground,
on all your fours to crawl through dust.
You'll lift your head towards the sunrise
to catch some light but only just.

Love breeds fear, now watch me shiver:
too scared to open up the door,
in case in comes another stranger
to add more damage to the sore.

Love will leave you lying breathless,
your body scattered on the bed.
A hopeless pilgrim gone off radar,
still longing for the words she said.

Love will show you the error
of your pathetic little ways.
With every hand the stake gets higher
and in the end - the loser pays.

Love will never give you pity,
too many fallen, fools galore.
A lesson learnt, I should know better
but here I am, begging for more...

Slowly ripped open by light

The hole in the top of the tent you call your mind slowly ripped open. The glowing light was to immense for human language to deal with, all I can say is it was radiant perfection. Who knows what happened to the glow, it oozed out that day.
Two weeks later we heard the beat of that glow return to our little house, it was getting darker and the nights colder - but how could we say no to the light. Never questioning our motives or us its, we bathed in its majesty for hours. We wrote notes to all our friends to come, they never did. We never found out why. But that glow, the glow. The day you broke your skull in Bologna train station was the most defining moment of my adult life, and the following two weeks of sleep went so quick. Then the awakening, our little home, the glow return.

Echo Spine

I use to dance on echos spines,
But now I walk on different lines,
The innocents bequeathed to me,
Smashed in the glass,
collect the fragments of my skull,
And wear them for your peace
The screaming winds will hit,
We have lost,
Not yet known,
Return to echos spine

***

Most acorns that fall from oak trees around autumn time do not drop on their own accord. Instead, they are thrown down by angry and bitter squirrels that are resentful of the society that we live in, as an act of protest.

Tonybee Idea

I am that man with paralytic legs
who fell from his chair screaming
"I am spider man and I return"
I return from the nightmarish realms
we all must go to
but pretend every night
that the hellion cult will not force us there
I know I am dead molecules
I know I am James Morasco
BUT PLEASE CAN WE STOP
I need to save the bird
But time is fucking running out on me man
I know we say we got fucking time
but man its going
and I am being chased down the street
fucking hellions the lot of them
shooting me and my birds
but fuck em
I am Lazarus
Lazi if you will
And screw em
I'm shooting back to 2001
I'm the fucking star child reborn
and unknown

Abglanz and Out

***

Life is nothing but a canvas that I paint with the bleakest colours of my existence.
In every breath there is resistance against the conformity forced upon me by a man in a suit.