the killing floor

I’ve been straight and sober now     for nearly a thousand years     coz the game that started out as fun      ended in bloody tears      some drink to remember      some drink to forget      others drink as penance for the crimes that they commit      me, I drank in self defence     I was fighting in a war     though I never knew who the enemy was      or what I was fighting for    people at war with themselves     will find no peace in a bottle      no matter how much they drink      they can never win that battle   it brought me piece of mind     to leave that life behind      it was a fucking nightmare    that somehow I survived

achilles

every villain is a hero       at least in his own mind      well, I’m no hero     but I keep on digging       there’s no light at the end of my tunnel    but I keep on digging    coz that’s who I am     I’m just an old dog with a bone      I got no fucking teeth     but I do have a bone

am I the hero of this story?      I’ve had moments of triumph      and I’ve had moments of despair     but I’m still here     the world needs heroes     I know my world does     so here I am    in the flesh     totally heroic     but fatally flawed

without troubles there are no heroes     without heroes there are no stories    without stories there is no culture      but heroes are people      and people are complicated    nobody is intrinsically heroic     everyone is somehow flawed       perhaps there really are no heroes    just ordinary people       who persevere somehow 

debauched

 

when I was a young man sex, drugs and alcohol seemed the only adventures available to me    so I played the covert Casanova using my seductive wit and charm to evade detection and responsibility    I felt I’d found the secret of happiness when I scored portable ecstasies for body, mind and soul    I reveled in the sensation of being alive and lifting the veil on carnal delights   

however, a lifetime of excess leaves its mark on a man      I was rotting away inside     but I was in good company      I was never alone in my debauchery      there was no shortage of willing accomplices     but they dried up       or died off    as I got older       those days are past now   I no longer indulge in drunken thrills     I’m too old to cavort with boys and girls       passions wane and memories blur    for the sole survivor of a fallen world

pawned

I pawned my soul      to buy some drugs      I was stoned for a while      but it’s never enough      I left my best girl in the rain     so I could go get stoned again     I loved that girl      but I let her down       all for a little golden brown     a junkie’s life is filled with woe      they’ve got no friends      they’ve got no dough    and some of us are filled with shame       for lovers left out in the rain     

missing you

 

I wonder if you ever think about me     the way I think about you      I’ve been missing you bad      sad to confess, but true      so if all your fair weather friends have cooled     some dark and cloudy day    you could call on me    I’d never turn you away      my mind says I am foolish      but  my heart does not agree       I’m starving for your presence      you mean so much to me      with us it was always easy come      easy go     easy come again       so you know I’ll always be there      if you ever need a friend

singular

 

I’ve become an individual      it was quite accidental      a gradual erosion of my social organs      saw me cut off from the herd       but I don’t seem to mind      I like my own company       I like to get things done    I’m not a total misanthrope       it’s nice to be liked       but it isn’t essential      I don’t care if someone hates me      if there’s nothing they can do about it      the world can go to hell      if I can have my way       I have made myself grotesque     to become an individual      I’m the weirdo down the road      I’m the dissident cliché 

heave

 

step aside please    step aside     I got a load on      I’m gonna puke      coz my belly’s on fire       I’ve overdone      and it wasn’t accidental      I’m still too greedy to have any fun      extra medication is alright in theory     but I get the heave long before I get high    that’s one more development in my sobriety      I just cannot be arsed with fucking around       I want to be straight     that would be great       coz to tell you the truth       I’ve begun to stagnate      I’m sick and tired of living in a rut      but step aside please     while I puke up my guts

 

spiritual vibrations

 

I’m dead calm     positively serene       I could be growing a soul       I didn’t know I could       when you are driven by the carnal     it’s easy to neglect you spiritual side       concentrated as you are on satisfying your desires    but now that I am governed by sympathetic algorithms     I’m a more enlightened being     I’ve been developing empathy and altruism as my new raison d' être

I never did anything good before      not just for the sake of it      but positivity has its own reward    everybody’s mad for some      they cannot get enough    and like attracts like       it’s a basic law of nature        just flood your synapses with positive vibrations       amplify the good you find in your life        don’t worry if people think you are crazy       of course you're fucking crazy       you have to be fucking crazy        to believe you have a soul

naturally

I don’t believe in injustice       I don’t believe in tragedy       I tried to bleed out once         it simply doesn’t work for me        I figure I made my bed      I may as well lay in it       coz at times I was selfish      but I was never deliberately cruel      I can live with that      coz I’m the one who makes the rules    I got my own way of living       and my own identity       I gave birth to myself      and I did it naturally 

another armageddon

 

another armageddon rains down on my head     it’s the end of the fucking world       as far as I can tell      I want to scream      but I’m stifled by the shock of it     my agony is muted    and I can hardly breathe       the past lives on in my head      there is grief etched into my bones        I can’t take any more of this     I feel I’m near the end

this is no mere nightmare    this is reality   a whole body experience    an integral human event of apocalyptic  proportions      I’m trying       you can believe that     I’m trying      but it’s hard to live and love       while you’re bracing yourself for impact       this strange new disease has me on my knees      post-traumatic stress will be the death of me     

lightning struck

 

good morning suckers       and how is your head today?     me, I’ve no grounds for complaint      flashbacks not withstanding     this remission business is a blast    I think I found my balance       the mundane seems less ordinary        I got my music        got my books       got no money       what else is new?      I no longer hear the thunder       I am not lightning struck       I don’t suffer the manic maelstrom      and I don’t give a fuck

where’s my head at?

 

another nothing day       best get my prescription filled      every now and then I get the urge       to fall off the wagon           some will say I jumped         I’ll maintain I was  pushed       so don’t touch me  now      I don’t know where I’ve been      I’m just flirting with reality      living the fucking dream

where’s my head at?      do I even care?      maybe if I strangle every impulse     remain impossibly still     it’ll come to me     eventually     solid state delivery    meaning in the here and now       I could be the prototype of the brand new being     I could grow myself a soul