Liberty tatters/ The derision you decide.

My squalid liberty cherub
I love your Congenital temerity make-up

There Could be could be
The dersion
Could be could be
But I parallaxed my perception.

Primative sin that leads to no creation
swells to the point of nausea the
closer I get to my destination

Anybody could have seen us in the window
an jus how many have you seen
but you show your love
by refusing to talk of whos been

taboo in the afternoon
now I'm powdered
till revealed curious and naive
Just a malleable fool
Just
a
malleable
fool

My squalid liberty cherub
I love your Congenital temerity make-up

There Could be could be
The dersion
Could be could be
But I parallaxed my perception.

An I know I never moved
like a knew i could
later you told me of the pain
oh sorry inexperience
but I'd never witnessed such an entrance.

For she came to me
with a boy in her hand
a brusque rebuke
and quite a cold demand

Now I'm just a malleable fool
ever far from the vial
just a malleable fool
respiring from a vial

Inanimacy and everything in between
assumed such significance
though it was only I impacted
the stratosphere may as well have been in tatters
that derision, derision has long since ceased to matter
Now the liberty you took for granted lies in tatters
those liberty tatters
liberty, liberty tatters.


My squalid liberty cherub
I love your Congenital temerity make-up

I said this

The fact that the potential exists for us to be together, but your velotion does not
i do find dissappointing
But I can fully understand the reason(s) for you selecting solitude over my company.
I am just thinking that anyway, ending the nothing you allow me now, would ultimately prove less dissappointing, than ending the something you might allow me in future.

Random Couplet Rant

Your issued insane artist calls
for a fresh wave of mundane devotion
a proposal compulsory to every generation.

get them out
out of that head they falsely
hold high
declare war on the content
for you would be if they weren't

I don't wanna be soaked in your ammonia
pandemonium
fames juice turning sour
I don't want my 15 minutes
take half an hour

crimes of the future will be exploding breasts
tantamount to terroism
well I'm gonna get old an even uglier
My skin folding
in a southward repugnance

I walk one of the worlds
narrow grain grey veins
in the buttered British sun
I'm aware it's walmer
when it rains

Tarmac glares at me
in it's bleakest glisten
to declare that this
This is England.

A diurnal dictum amplified by friction
that typically british consternation
of they don't listen

from concrete erections drenched in piss
echo hypodermic murmurs
the enveloper of a personality never to surface

feeling like a cunt
but getting what you want
you may well tell me
to delete the expletives
But I'm gonna persist
never having possessed a pleated existence

When what you'll never remember
remains final
in a neon-lit anarchy where
architects attend urinals

A pirate on hearts that float on alcohol
I know your no criminal
but you know your no hero
posturing to your circumstances
mounting your disatisfaction
with various circus stances

for the errand paternity
to flippant an indelible dichotomy
and a noose clad boredom merchant
to order words
that petty crimes to the devil serve
well the kids've fuck all to do
An' I don't see you sitting queitly in your room

invoking the righteousness from the
rage inside all of us
what your so sure of
shows you know nothing at all
just more fuel for a vanity engine
your so sincere
you can't possibly be genuine.

well I'm an aristocrat from a council estate
an i got a divine right to put more than food on my plate
with philtrum waterfalls
making up the landscrape
I'm surrounded by the beauty of escape

Wanna live my life by a thousand books
and not just one
many are now extinct
cos one man wanted the world
to know he existed
Got no interest in emulating Che Guevara
the coolest murderer ever to be made a martyr
oh and Aubrey de Grey your gonna die.
an if I can't think of a proper rhyme
I Jus say mexican scientists
have turned tequila into a diamond.

A silent conversation

Was witnessed today
between a man
and a teenager
The man said I hate my life
I got nothing that I wanted or ever warranted
It all could have been so blissful if only
I was Listened to.
The teenager replyed I know
I wasn't what you wanted or ever warranted
But were was choice and
how could fate have produced this much hate?

Lyrics: Fierce Summer Praise

This is a song that could (possibly very justly) as rather disgusting and unseemly. However i will defend to the hilt as I feel there is an underlying sense of bittersweet beauty and redemption via body entanglment.


Long-nosed pariah
I don't mean to pry
But something in your posture
Just caught my eye.

You look quite startled when I speak
But i'm sure we can find a way
to transcend this breach.

I suggest a cross-cultural fluid exchange
Yes yes I know the repurcussions
could be quite grave

But the broad women's hips they sing
such fierce summer praise
those broad womans hips sing such fierce summer pra-a-aase

Now I'm not talking romance any available park
better than plying a hand-held
natural disaster in the dark.

For these sheets are sodden in hormonal ecstacy
with no shred of a pheromone
anywhere next to me.

Now I was given life
by this pussy
so i will die
by the pussy

These secretions of puss
really don't bother me

For the broad women's hips
sing such fierce summer praise
those broad women's hips sing
such fierce summer praise.

Lyrics : Stupid Fluids

You vacillate on my fortunes daily
Yer a dilly-dally dilatory baby
You've got you own thoughts to be enclaved in
And your favourite phrase ends in maybe

Surely its about time you tried somebody else
so go ahead and take a taste of somebody else

Your such a sweet sweet human
but don't you know you can be so fucking stupid

Now our time has come to a dissolution
an we've only managed to dilute stupid stupid fluids.

But i'm gonna continue
to see the beauty for it shines
too bright to be refuted

I imagined you as I wanted
for me own questions
I'd ready made responses

But of course when you contrast apathy
with exuberance, appearances are always to be
drunken foolishness.



And it repeats slightly rotating, that little ditty is brought to you by The Zeks and is from our first album which we will never finish.

The Scene

A neutral palette of flat pack
supporter of trenchant
water cooler remarks
Paper filled hands that easily feign purpose
All seen thru coffee cured haze
where the mention of my address
reverts eyes to a nasal gaze
I ask what it pays
and patron-eyes, paper incise
Insinuating you'll get
what you got.

But in a suggestion of intuition,
sniffing the moulding of my biology
she asks if I'd considered a career
in information technology

I told her
A room full of computers
permeates the grease of hair
A room full of computers
makes me just wanna sit there
and play solitaire.

Hands then motioned to earlier members of the alphabet
I was qualified, but had forgot to pick up the certificate

I explained
That if ceremony was not redundant
then go ahead and pick from the finger buffet of achievement.

MMM...
At the moment the market is a desert
she apologetically muttered

But i see middlemen pitching their tents
in the paper sand

I uttered

Please rest from these practised postures,
feel the warm assuagance
as you emancipate yourself from sedulous devotion
to agreed opinion.

Let us shed it all to face each other
in our respective excrement
flesh and bone
cleansed of all ignorant sentiment.

Needless to say
I went away without the scarcest
possibility of employment.

THE END.