The Road

The Road

The road is filled with burning wood
people leaving, told they should
grab some clothes and hit the road
and hear the windows behind explode

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Pigs in the barn

Pigs in the barn

Pigs in the barn
the farmer’s gone out for a spell
his Niece is covering for him
she’s had to lay down, she’s not well

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Castle in my mind

Castle in my mind

My neighbour, with his driveway entrance,
hardwood double doors
and the multi-level rooms,
over gleaming, silk-screen shores

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Freedom #4

Freedom #4

This freedom of speech, how do you defend it
is it so close to your heart that you need to befriend it
dignified silence, jettisoned, forgotten
views contrary, sullied, putrid and rotten

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Hell

Hell

In Dante’s Inferno, when trying to describe
the houses of Hell’s lamentations 
the torments, the trials, laid quick to ascribe
amidst the curses and blessings of nations

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Where were we?

Where were we?

What was it? Where were we? Yesterday?
that made me stay away,
reined me in, stopped me calling,
not that you could hear me

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Why would you want to be old?

Why would you want to be old?

My days are numbered I know that well
it is why I’m stuck here in this living hell
the biscuits stale, the tinkle of tea
and the nurses told not to bother with me

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The truck

The truck

The truck stops, week in, out, inconvenient in the striving street
regular, if payment is required
to collect the stock piles of baby puke and waste convenience
and plastic worn deliveries, slit and thrown

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We’re not to blame

We’re not to blame

It’s not our fault, we’re not to blame
we’re just trying to maintain our freedom
we mine our dark materials, this is not a game
because there are other poor people who need ‘em

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Why do I do it?

Why do I do it?

I don’t do it for you , so your thoughts can rest easy
as you nod in your pleasant agreement
while you sip on your drink, peculiar and queasy
at my anticipated long due achievement

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If not this, then what?

If not this, then what?

It’s not the Masses, not the torments, not the nightmares of our longing
Not the grasslands, not the homelands, not the roads to our belonging
Not the mortgage, not the storage where our things are kept for later
Not the governed, not the owners, not a Priest to set us straighter

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One day closer every day

One day closer every day

Sheep droop jaw and hooves split in the stumble for the hay,
eager teeth picking at the stubble and the crust
Knees buckle their hollow humble eyes stare down and absorb
what was mud is now unsullied deep red dust

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The sweet sweet sound

The sweet sweet sound

There’s a sweet sweet sound moving across the settled ground
it whispers in my ear in the morning
like a solitary breeze that whistles through the trees
and summons all the birds to cease their yawning

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What are we made of?

What are we made of?

What are we made of? asks the child who cries
who just wants a toy she can play with
or to ask most politely before she dies
“is there someone out there I can stay with.”

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A place to breathe

A place to breathe

My, what a lovely place you have
you must be very proud
I love your modern furniture
and the space that you’ve allowed

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The lifestyle you ordered

The lifestyle you ordered

The lifestyle you ordered is currently out of stock
our warehouse has been stripped of supplies
our people are working around the clock
to ensure you get your hands on the prize

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I remembered yesterday

I remembered yesterday

I remembered yesterday the times that I have with you
And visions of the grateful days and all that I have wished for you

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One day

One day

There’s a ghost selling memories down by the shore
as a jury decides its fate
there’s a man of religion knocking at my door
I need to lie down, he can wait.

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My own best friend

My own best friend

Stooping down and listless still
the rain, the pavement scarried
the men they took my food and oil
and all that I had carried

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Thoreau was right

Thoreau was right

Am I happy? It doesn’t matter, it’s not relevant, I accept my fate. Thoreau was right, the mass of men really do lead lives of quiet desperation

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My leaning frame

My leaning frame

I have no room on my leaning frame
The seed that’s planted, in the ground
I have no mind for what lays behind
I put no weight on what others find

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I Found You *

I Found You *

Princes priests and diplomats
are trying to explain
The times that we are living in
the rumbling in my brain

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Bleed for Mary

Bleed for Mary

It’s a recurring theme invading my senses
I’m lining up images all in a row
They’re blowing up bridges and cutting down fences
But I keep on moving but my moving is slow

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When I’m Gone *

When I’m Gone *

When all is conquered said and done
When all the races have been run
I’m hoping for a place that I call home
I hope I meet my saviour there
I hope that he will judge me fair
When I’m gone

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God Knows Where *

God Knows Where *

My mother she left me I don’t know where she went
perhaps she never arrived
I left home when I was four years old
I had to survive

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No One Mentions Her Name *

No One Mentions Her Name *

All sorts of things thoughts tied like lengths of strings
Run through my mind.
Like winding anxiety waiting on her fate at the watch of hope I wait
From one day to next always the same
Not one mention of her name.

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Writing on the Wall *

Writing on the Wall *

There’s a sign in the window saying the stores are closed
The doors are barricaded and the pipes they froze
They say that pride it comes before a fall
I think it’s got something to do with the writing on the wall

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Holy Ground *

Holy Ground *

Walking seems hard and my thoughts deplete
My head’s on my pillow but I cannot sleep
There’s a voice that’s calling me to come around
And stand in silence on Holy Ground

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What’s Required of Me *

What’s Required of Me *

Sip my coffee and I read the news
Reading about society’s views
Call my broker and do some lunch
Make a million on the back of a hunch…

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Guess I’m Doing Fine *

Guess I’m Doing Fine *

You see me in the street and you ask me with a grin
About the life I’m livin and the kind of shape I’m in
Even though I’m lost and lonely
And my heart is on the line
I smile and give my answer
That I guess I’m doing fine.

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