I N D E X :

Is this Norfolk
This thing
There's a comet
Gotta do
Di is dead
Cleaner boy
Order of luv
Men of a cloth
Infinite blues
Trip top
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Is this Norfolk

Is this Norfolk ?
Or is this Memphis
Is this Norfolk ?
Or is this Zimbabwe.
Is this Norfolk ?
Or is this the Plaiedes .
Is this Norfolk ?
Or is it a dream .

Who fought Norfolk ?
With an army and a king .
Who bought Norfolk ?
With a lorry load of Turkeys .

What is Norfolk ?
Not quite the sea .
What is Norfolk ?
Sky as far as the eye can see .

What is Norfolk ?
Cley windmill next the sea .
What is Norfolk ?
Twitchers and nature lovers like me .

Where is Norfolk ?
All around Norwich .
Where is Norwich ?
Up A 11 .

Where is it going ?
Into the sea . . . . . . .


This thing

This thing they call reality -
Name me one thing without a sound .

This thing we call reality -
Do one thing without a move .

This thing we call reality -
Listen to one tick without time .


There's a comet

There's a comet in the sky ,
So look up .
We are richer than belief ,
So wake up .

There's a sun in the sky ,
So look up .
Too late tomorrow ,
Get up and follow ,
Random creature ,
Story teller .

There are friends in our midst ,
So keep in touch .
With them we are given power ,
Of the blessed .

Blissed be our name ,
As it is today and maybe tomorrow .

What are we being ?
Human being .
What are we feeling ?
Just miraculous .


Gotta do

"You have got to do what you've got to do".
"Who says so" !
"The heart, the Art of you".

Have you ever tried to betray the heart,
Portray the heart ?
On top of the heart sits the mind,
In joy or sorrow.

The heart,
The part,
The organ that blows.

"Gotta do, what you gotta do".

Hither, thither, wither as we wander.
Inspiration, I feel, I go, I blunder.
I don't much feel like being around with all the darkness and all.
But these are the circles, shapes, spiralling,
For better for worse.
Old patterns like a curse.

Oh yea there's a light alright.
"Gotta do what you gotta do".

For this is the baggy trousered philosophy.
The technology philosophy.
Millennium - pre millennium high,
Lets wave goodbye,
To a billion evils unleashed.

What a thousand years ?
"Gotta do , what you gotta do".

I don't mean that the walls will all come tumbling down,
It's just that we're free,
To be.
What this,
World is.
To make our hell or heaven,
You're free !


Di is dead

Lady Di is dead,
and so is the great nanny Lay.

Visa versa terra firma,
terrestrial, terrorism.
spectrum, prism, prison, pylon.
Nylon, neutron, proton, scorpion.
Lemon, blood, heart, seizure, treasure.
Quaking timer, loony rhymer.

Soothsayer, singing slang, Ylang Ylang.
Gang of four and all for one.
Time begun is time eternal.
Vernal, verdigris, the sea,
Paper, labour, about flavour.
Misfit, equip, chipped cup,
Cracked pot, nut cracker,
News paper, reef knot.
Guilty or not.
Nectar, doctor, actor, glitter.
Better, button, bulldog, twelve.

R.I.P


Cleaner boy

Spring cleaning and summer cleaning,
Autumn and winter fade into each other,
for cleaner boy,
A duster not a toy
a cloth not a book.
Come and look.
At glass that's free from smear,
And baths that do come near,
Perfection,
Mirrors of reflection,
Dust defies detection.
When he is around,
top floor down to ground.
What follows is the sound of squeaky clean.

Dust falls down in a dusty world.
From him we can learn,
How to kill all known germ,
Dead.


Order of luv

  1. I love my God ,
    Then I love my self ,
    Then I love my children ,
    Then I love my lover ,
    Then I love my mother ,
    Then I love my DADA ,
    Then I love my sister ,
    Then I love my blister ,
    Then I love my friends ,
    Then I love my neighbour ,
    Then I love my town ,
    Then I love my country ,
    Then I love my nation ,
    Then I love my World ,
    Then I love the Moon ,
    Then I love the Milky Way ,
    Then I love the universe ,
    Then I love my God .


Men of the cloth

Nike , Umbro , Rebok , Puma , Adidas , are crap !
Get it in your head repeat after me :
Nike Umbro , Reebok , Puma , Adidas , are shits .
My boy's sad 'cause I can't afford there shirts .
The label - the tower of Babel .
I'm not able nor willing to spend a shilling ,
On there clothes .

The men of the cloth .
Biz' men on the dole .
A doll like Barbie .
Proud they are the serpents sucking on my baby .
" 'scuse me lady , put that down , and boycott ,
the thief that robs you .
Who loves you ?
Well - your baby does . "

" Hey ! excuse me lady boycott ,
The educators of your baby in the cot . "
They say she's better ,
He's better ,
In a sweater with a tick .
" How come you look at me as though I'm sick .
Do I have to speak rudely .
You’re a primitive native worshipping idols
Like Adidas . "
Dada ,
Buy me Adidas . Dada ,
Buy me Adidas . Dada ,
Buy me Adidas . Dada ,
Buy me Adidas .

Well I think I'm talking to a brick wall .
I mean we all went to a state school .
My school was a good one ,
Cause a failed to catch my BSE grade 1 .
The teachers name was JacKoff .
Who taught us to take what you want then fuck off .
But then this was the 80's .

Christmas time is coming then we're all having our tea .
We're all taking our places in the factory .

Hey cool !
The Power .
Get the max !
Competitor .
Win !
Help your self .
Get fit for life .
Angel wares trainers in the urban battle ground .


Infinate blues

I hope not to bring you down but it's true ,
I've got the infinite blues .

Why wake up when we're all gonna die .
Why wake up when I know what's behind the sky .
Peeling off the layers to the endless core .
Hurting when I'm old or smiling in a new skin .
I can't say I'm grateful , that I'm bleeding .

I've got the infinite blues .

A roaring chaos .

I hope not to bring you down but it's true ,
I've got the infinite blues .

A roaring chaos .
Plural and all folded in .
The mind just sits there turning in .
For the sake that I can see, just so I can be ,
Understood by those that understand .

I've got the infinite blues .

Them there are the ones , thin as snow ,
Melting in dawn of the future .
Puppets in the bloody mortal theatre .

I hope not to bring you down but it's true ,
I've got the infinite blues .

Shadows on the clear jelly of my eye ,
Ring bells and stuff in what I call my .
Mind .

Powdery memory of summer ,
And numbers ,
And lovers ,
And smells I forget some times .

I've got the infinite blues .

Time most tragic imposes ,
The senses .
Stacking this and that
And then after a proud perusal ,
I hope .
Hope wares the cloak of hopelessness .

I've got the infinite blues .

Wishes - beautiful wishes ,
Floating like innocent kisses .
To pop and rain on ,
The thrashing hedge hog .


Trip Top

Trip hop ,
Is the seat of my content .
The rhythm puts to rest the maelstrum .
The spasm .
The thrust .
Heave ho ,
The stardust .
A stones throw ,
From the sun .
The Earth is my Mum .
The desolate ovum .

Any way up ,
Anyway down .
If I can lean on one thing ,
It's the ground .
The other is this sound .

Weaving a warp ,
For the tapestry of my thought .
Just hanging ,
Just being .
Me - I'm nothing .

Between tick and tock ,
There's a rock .
Trip Hop .


 

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