1. |
Moondays
04:30
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Moondays dragging on
There’s no sense of time at all
No break from the glum
Moondays in squats and slums
Rain streams down the scaffolding
So strange to come home
To grand-façade buildings
We don’t know what’s really worse
Bright Street tack or Old Town dirt
Living on the dark side of the earth
Moondays pale and wan
Baggy eyes and dusty rooms
Now the sun has gone
No natural flowers bloom
Moondays just the ones
Genetic engineers can grow
Blue, grey, vermillion
That creep from drains and gutter-flow
We don’t know what’s really worse
Knowing that there’s light elsewhere, or
Living on the dark side of the earth
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2. |
Howl On
04:36
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Your breezy voice upon the phone just blows away any thought of home. Take one step back and two to the left, you'll find a room you won't forget. Your future took a detour. I was at the wrong station. Delete all my settings. Make notebooks confetti. But don't tell me to howl on. The donkey's ears upon your head, what you shouldn't hear you won't forget. The floor comes rushing at me. I grab on while I can. You curse and you fluster. Your forces you muster. And tell me to howl on, but you don't say for how long. Your future took a detour. I'd lost the postal code. Delete all my settings. Make notebooks confetti. Take umbrage at comments that weren't meant to make sense. Eat me for breathing. Drill holes in the ceiling. But don't tell me to howl on.
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3. |
Shapeshifter
04:20
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I can get the mistletoe and yew berries from the garden, but what you might call secret ingredients I have to liberate from sick friends or teenagers in the underpass. When I've brewed it up nice and thick most goes in the freezer for storage, but I can't resist having a wee swig there and then. I knock it back and pass out almost immediately. When I wake I'm someone else, every step a swagger and voice full of bravado. I can change at will: to some people I'm the thoughtful, sensitive soul; with others I'm brutal. I'm plastic. I skin-walk my way through different lives, re-creating myself to fit in with what friends expect or forging a new self with people who don't know me at all. You know what you need from me. I know that you need a friend. We all want to be something, shapeshifters to the end. I'm a strawman. When I'm in company and the snow begins to fall I can't help assuming shapes in order to snare people, striking attitudes like a scarecrow on no man's land, reducing their opinions to the absurd as they parry and thrust at an empty form. I change for everyone: I've been a local boy and a man of the world, an old hand and ingenue, shifting shapes with mistletoe and yew. You know what you need from me. I know that you need a friend. We all want to be something, shapeshifters to the end.
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De Selby Codex UK
If the voices in your head could sing, program a synth and bash some instruments, this is what they’d sound like. Niall Ó Siadhail, Barney Curry and Jamie Shaw are travel agent, tour guide and customer service operative respectively on a musical journey down your auditory chimneys. Smoke alarms at the ready; Victorian sweeps need not apply. ... more
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