back in the day

 I know they talk about me      and I know just what they say       I did something wrong      but that was back in the day        I was too young to know any better      way back in the day      they that I’m the devil       I certainly know his ways      but I was still a child       way back in the day.

I was beautiful       I was wild      and I liked to have my way      but the sins that I committed         well, that was back in the day       I had willing accomplices      who later called themselves victims     it seems I was svengali    way back in the day

I broke the seventh commandment      what more can I say?         I was a backdoor man       way back in the day        some kinds of love are evil       that’s what people say        they made of me a monster       from somewhere back in the day

hold me

buddha is watching         buddha is waiting        what’s in you      is around you       all that’s around you       is within you         without or within         it’s all the same to him         you could suffer little children        the way they suffer you        you could build a fire         of your possessions        free your mind of all distractions      

but in the meantime       you could hold me          just hold me        I lost my shadow       in the darkness       it’s dark without        it’s dark within         my blood runs cold         my shadow runs thin      and you could hold me      until the night passes         you could hold me        we could banish sin       you could simply hold me       until the day begins

bipolar wing nut

 I can make it        I know that I can make it        I’ve been harvesting troubles        since the world began         my blood spoils       with murderous intentions       but I’m yet resolved       to do myself no harm       still,  I have a mania of dangerous dimensions         and I must bite my tongue           learn to contain my words        my words are poison       my words are violent       my words are strange      and I must bite my tongue           these are my days        of blasphemy and thunder         and blasphemy and thunder        have been my mother tongue          very well       and     very well       I’ll get myself a poultice         to suffer up the puss       that so infects my purpose         I’ll find myself an angle        to cure my crooked thinking       I’ll mix myself a potion       to liberate my mind

feel good naked

 you have to turn the lights off      if you want to see outside       fix that scene in your head       you can serve it up later        when you’re in bed        just an ordinary guy         with love on his mind        god was looking at you        but just for a moment        it was a beautiful thing         a brown paper bag       discarded on the pavement       the chords of intent      tug on your shoulders         it won’t be long now        til you reach fulfilment       you’ve got to know what you look like       before you go out        you want to feel good naked          while you freak out         you are so very beautiful        and you’re doing great        if only you knew it

crushed

take a picture of this          lives that whisper low and soft    like desiccated leaves        of yesterday’s plasticine lovers         buried in shallow graves        old songs and new          of love betrayed        or bitterly entangled         some that withered on the vine          or were stolen in the dead of night      and eventually strangled             a billion working stiffs       eat when they are able           while bands of renegade junkies        feast upon their entrails           so indelicately dangled

they said the fighting was over        so we would drop our guard          then they sucker punched us        with world war three        staged in our back yard          there’s an app built into your phone          that turns your mind to mush          and replaces all your memories          with electrostatic slush       this is as a voice preaching to the deaf           whose words would make you blush       if you were of the living          and weren’t already crushed