woke up wednesday morning with a bit of a cough   ,took some cough syrup and went about my day
woke up thursday morning to find i have flu
friday flu
sat  had to go to work  yeah still had flu  felt like poo
sunday i woke up and still have this bloody flu  went to work  cos i felt a little better  it didnt last long
i was soon aching all over and freezing cold  came home about 2 pm and went to bed  woke up a short time ago and i feel ok again 
dunno how long itll last thou
so its time for a little prayer
oh god  i really hate flu  amen

THE POST WAR DREAM

Tell me true, tell me why was Jesus crucified?
Is it for this that daddy died?
Was it for you?  was it me?
Did I watch too much TV?
Is that a hint of accusation in your eyes?
If it wasn't for the nips
Being so good at building ships
The yards would still be open on the clyde.
And it can't be much fun for them
Beneath the rising sun
with all their kids committing suicide.
What have we done?  Maggie, what have we done?
What have we done to England?
Should we shout?  Should we scream?
"What happened to the post war dream?"
Oh, Maggie, Maggie, what have we done?



YOUR POSSIBLE PASTS

They flutter behind you, your possible pasts;
Some brighteyed and crazy, some frightened and lost;
A warning to anyone still in command
Of their possible future to take care.
In derelict sidings the poppies entwine
With cattle trucks lying in wait for the next time.

Do you remember me? how we used to be?
Do you think we should be closer?

She stood in the doorway, the ghost of a smile
Haunting her face like a cheap hotel sign.
Her cold eyes imploring the men in their macs
For the gold in their bags or the knives in their backs.
Stepping up boldly one put out his hand.
He said, "I was just a child then, now I'm only a man."

Do you remember me? how we used to be?
Do you think we should be closer?

By the cold and religious we were taken in hand,
Shown how to feel good and told to feel bad.
Tongue tied and terrified we learned how to pray
And strung out behind us the banners and flags
Of our possible past lies in tatters and rags.

Do you remember me? how we used to be?
Do you think we should be closer?



ONE OF THE FEW

When you're one of the few to land on your feet
What do you do to make ends meet?
Teach.
Make them mad, make them sad, make them add two and two.
Make them me, make them you, make them do what you want them to.
Make them laugh, make them cry, make them lie down and die.



THE HERO'S RETURN

Jesus, Jesus, what's it all about,
Trying to clot these little ingrates into shape?
When I was their age all the lights went out;
There was no time to whine and mope about.

And even now part of me flies over
Dreaden at angels one five,
Though they'll never fathom it, behind my
Sarcasm, desperate memories lie.

Sweetheart, sweetheart, are you fast asleep?  Good.
'Cos that's the only time that I can really talk to you,
And there is something that I've locked away,
A memory that is too painful
To withstand the light of day.

When we came back from the war, the banners and
Flags hung on everyone's door.
We danced and we sang in the street, and

The church bells rang,
But burning in my heart,
My memory smoulders on
Of the gunner's dying words on the intercom.



THE GUNNER'S DREAM

Floating down through the clouds,
Memories come rushing up to meet me now
In the space between the heavens,
And in the corner of some foreign field,
I had a dream,
I had a dream.
Goodbye, Max.
Goodbye, Ma.
After the service when you're walking slowly to the car,
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold November air,
You hear the tolling bell,
And youch the silk in your lapel,
And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band,
You take her frail hand,
And hold onto the dream.

A place to stay,
Enough to eat,
Somwhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street,
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears,
And what's more, no one ever disappears,
You never hear their standard issue kicking in your door,
You can relax on both sides of the tracks,
And maniacs don't blow hold in bandsmen by remote control,
And everyone has recourse to the law,
And no one kills the children anymore...
And no one kills the children anymore.

Night after night,
Going 'round and 'round my brain,
His dream is driving me insane,
In the corner of some foreign field.

The gunner sleeps tonight.
What's done is done.
We cannot just write off his final scene.
Take heed of his dream.
Take heed.



PARANOID EYES

Button your lip, don't let the sheild sip.
Take a fresh grip on your bullet proof mask,
And if they try to break your disguise with their questions,
You can hide, hide, hide
Behind paranoid eyes.

You put on your brave face and slip over the road for a jar,
Fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar,
Laughing too loud at the rest of the world,
With the boys in the crows,
You hide, hide, hide
Behind paranoid eyes.

You believed in their stories of fame, fortune, and glory.
Now you're lost in a haze of alcohol, soft middle age.
The pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high,
And you hide, hide, hide
Behind paranoid eyes.



GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY DESERT

Brezhnev took Afganistan
Begin took Beirut,
Galtieri took the Union Jack,
And Maggie, over lunch one day,
Took a cruiser with all hands,
Apparently to make him give it back.



THE FLETCHER MEMORIAL HOME

Take all your overgrown infants away somewhere,

And build them a home, a little place of their own:
The Fletcher Memorial
Home for incurable tyrants and kings.

And they can appear to themselves every day
On closed circuit TV
To make sure they're still real.
It's the only connection they feel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Reagan and Haig,
Mr. Begin and friend, Mrs. Thatcher and Paisley,
Mr. Brezhnev and party,
The ghost of McCarthy,
The memories of Nixon,
And now, adding colour, a group of anonymous Latin
American meat packing glitterati."

Did they expect us to treat them with any respect?

They can polish their medals and sharpen their
Smiles, and amuse themselves playing games for a while.
Boom, boom; bang, bang; Lie down, you're dead.

Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye,
With their favourite toys,
They'll be good girls and boys,
In the Fletcher Memorial Home for colonial
Wasters of life and limb.

Is everyone in?
Are you having a nice time?
Now the final solution can be applied.



SOUTHAMPTON DOCK

They disembarked in '45,
And no one spoke, and no one smiled.
There were too many spaces in the line.
Gathered at the cenotaph,
All agreed with the hand on heart,
To sheeth the sacrificial knives.

But now

She stands upon Southampton Dock
With her handkerchief,
And her summer frock clings
To her wet body in the rain.
In quiet desperation, knuckles
Whipe upon the slippery reins,
She bravely waves the boys goodbye again.

And still the dark stain spreads between
His shoulder blades:
A mute reminder of the poppy fields and graves,
And when the fight was over,
We spent what they had made.
But in the bottom of our hearts,
We felt the Final Cut.



THE FINAL CUT

Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes,
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time,
And far from flying high in clear, blue skies,
I'm spiralling down to the hole in the ground where I hide.

If you negotiate the minefield in the drive,
And beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyes,
And if you make it past the shotgun in the hall,
Dial the combination, open the priesthole,
And if I'm in I'll tell you what's behind the wall.

There's a kid who had a big hallucination:
Making love to girls in magazines.
He wonders if you're sleeping with your new-found faith.
Could anybody love him?
Or is it just a crazy dream?

And if I show you my dark side,
Will you still hold me tonight?
And if I open my heart to you,
And show you my weak side,
What would you do?
Would you sell your story to ROLLING STONE?
Would you take the children away
And leave me alone,
And smile in reassurance
As you whisper down the phone?
Would you send me packing?
Or would you take me home?

Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings.
Thought I oughta tear the curtain down.
I held the blade in trembling hands,
Prepared to make it, but just then the phone rang.
I never had the nerve to make the Final Cut.



NOT NOW JOHN

Fuck all that!  We've got to get on with these;
Got to compete with the wily Japanese.
There's too many home fires burning,
And not enough trees.
So fuck all that,
We've got to get on with these.

Can't stop  Lose job  Mind gone  Silicon
What bomb?  Get away!  Pay day  Make hay
Break down  Need fix  Big six
Clickity-click  Hold on  Oh, no!  Brrrrrrrrrring bingo!

Make 'em laugh  make 'em cry  Make 'em dance in the aisles
Make 'em pay  Make 'em stay  Make 'em feel okay.

Not nah, John,
We've got to get on with the film show.
Hollywood waits at the end of the rainbow.
Who cares what it's about
As long as the kids go?
Not now, John,
Got to get on with the show.

Hang on, John.
I think there's something good on.
I used to read books but
It could be the news,
Or some other abuse,
Or it could be reusable shows.

Fuck all that, we've got to get on with these;
Got to compete with the wily Japanese.
No need to worry about the Vietnamese;
Got to bring the Russian bear to his knees.
Well, maybe not the Russian bear;
Maybe the Sweedes.
We showed Argentina;
Now let's go and show these.
Make us feel tough,
And wouldn't Maggie be please?
Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah!

S'cusi dove il bar.
Se para collo pou eine toe bar.
S'il vous plait ou est le bar.
Ol' where's the fucking bar, John?



TWO SUNS IN THE SUNSET

In my rear view mirror, the sun is going down,
Sinking behind the bridges in the road,
And I think of all the good things
That we have left undone,
And I suffer premonitions;

Confirm suspicions
Of the holocaust to come.

The wire that hold the cork,
That keeps the anger in,
Gives way,
And suddenly it's day again.
The sun is in the east
Even though the day is done.
Two suns in the sunset.
Hmmmmmmmmmm.
Could be the human race is run.

Like the moment when the brakes lock,
And you slide towards the big truck.
You stretch the frozen moments with your fear;
And you'll never hear their voices;
And you'll never see their faces.
You have no recourse to the law anymore.

And as the windshield melts,
My tears evaporate,
Leaving only charcoal to defend.
Finally, I understand.
The feelings of the few;
Ashes and diamonds,
Foe and friend,
We're all equal in the end.

            'Twas the Night of the King's Castration: the last of the Royal Balls was coming off. All the counts, discounts and no-'ccounts were sitting around the throne room slinging camel-shit, for in those days, bull-shit was as yet unknown.

            A noise was heard in the courtyard and in came Daniel on his gallant white steed, with his balls slung over his shoulder. "What ho!" cried the King. "Ass-hole!" replied Daniel, thus scoring an early point for the common people.

            At this, the Queen dashed madly through the court with her drawers at half-mast, and her ass shining like a looking-glass in the moonlight.

            Hilarious now, the King offered Daniel the post of second-in-command. "But what of the Queen?" asked Daniel. "Oh, fuck the Queen!" replied the King, and 50,000 loyal courtiers were killed in the rush, for in those days the King's word was law, and the King ruled with an iron hand.

            Upon seeing such mass slaughter, the King in exasperation exclaimed, "Oh, shit!"; and all 50,000 remaining loyal courtiers dropped their drawers and squatted on their haunches and strained and grunted in unison, for in those days the King's word was law and the King ruled with an iron hand.

            "Stop!" cried the Queen, thinking of the royal carpet. The King called "Halt!" and 49,999 loyal butt-holes snapped shut with a stately click, and 49,999 glistening turds were nipped, gently steaming in the morning air, all save for that of Daniel, who proceeded to lay one two cubits wide by one cubit high by three cubits long.

            The King was sore affronted, and ordered Daniel thrown into the lions' den for three days and three nights, for in those days the King's word was law and the King ruled with an iron hand.

            And here was Daniel, in the midst of all those roaring, snarling beasts --- but of course, you could easily recognize Daniel by the large green parasol that he always carried.

            On the first day, the Queen came unto Daniel and Daniel said, "Oh Queen, I am in need of some tea!" and the Queen asked, "What manner of tea?" Daniel replied, "C-U-N-T!" And the Queen departed.

            On the second day the Queen came unto Daniel and Daniel said, "Oh Queen, I am in need of some pills!" and the Queen asked, "What manner of pills?" Daniel replied, "NIP-PILLS!" And the Queen departed.

            Again on the third day, the King came unto Daniel, but it had come to pass that on the morning of the third day, Daniel had shat a great shit, and the lions were sore affronted. Almost all of them had thenceforth kept their distance from Daniel. But one of the lions took a liking to Daniel's left nut, and began to munch upon it. "Oh, it tickles, it tickles!" cried Daniel. "What tickles?" asked the King. "TES-TICKLES!" roared Daniel, thereby scoring another point for the common people. Upon hearing this, all the ladies in the courtyard took out their tits and tittered.

            Then the lion crouched as if to spring, but instead laid a big turd. This amused the King, and he ordered Daniel to come forth, but Daniel slipped on the lion's turd and came fifth, thus utterly losing the race. This angered Daniel so greatly that he picked up the lion turd and, with menacing accuracy, hurled it at random. Random, being a crafty little bugger, ducked, and the turd hit the King full in the eye.

            Now, this made the King exceedingly angry, whereupon he inquired, "Where's the Queen?" "Milord, she is on the Royal Crapper." "And is she well-supplied with paper?" "Milord, she has forty reams of the finest linen." "It is good," said the King. "And where's the Princess?" "Oh, she's upstairs in bed with laryngitis." "Not that fucking Greek again!" cried Daniel.

            This amused the King and he spake, "Oh, fuck the Princess!" and another 40,000 loyal courtiers were trampled to death in the rush, for in those days the King's word was law, and the King ruled with an iron hand, and besides, the Princess was a comely wench. This made the King exceeding angry, but the Queen only said, "Well, I'll be fucked!" --- more in hope than in indignation. But nobody moved, save a solitary senile seneschal, quietly masturbating in a corner into a silver teaspoon, and Daniel, who, taking her at her word, grabbed the Queen by her butt-cheeks and slipped her onto his dick like a well-worn jackboot.

            Later in the evening the King entered the Royal Boudoir and beheld the Queen lying on the bed, clad only in Nature's attire. "Roll over, Queen!" ordered the King. "I'll be fucked if I will!" shouted the Queen. "You will at that," observed the King, "but you'll be corn-holed if you won't!" Hearing this, the Queen shat a gold brick, for in those days a square ass-hole was a symbol of royalty.

            When the King saw this, he cried, "Balls!"; not because he had to, but because he had two. And the Queen replied, "Balls!? If I had two, I could be King!"

            Whereupon the King, having partaken of over-ripe olives, hied himself to the innermost part of his kingdom and proceeded to shit buttermilk for three days, and thereafter was forever known as King Dairy-Ass, throughout the world.

            Blaming Daniel for his digestive discomfort the King sentenced Daniel to wander in the wilderness for forty days and forty nights, for in those days the King's word was law and the King ruled with an iron hand.

            And so it came to pass that Daniel wandered in the wilderness for many a long day and many a long night. But in the evening of his thirteenth day in the wilderness, Daniel was set upon by bandits! Not, as you might at first surmise, ordinary bandits, but Mexican bandits. Nor, as you might at second surmise, ordinary Mexican bandits, but Mexican bum-bandits, who debagged him, scragged him, and shagged him, and left him with his pockets jingling, and his ass-hole tingling.

            Months went by before the Queen came unto Daniel. "Oh Daniel, I am heavy with child. What steps are to be taken?" "Fuckin' big ones!" replied Daniel as he vanished over the Southern horizon.

Everybody I know who has a dog usually calls him "Rover" or "Spot". I call mine Sex.

Now, Sex has been very embarrassing to me.
When I went to the City Hall to renew the dog's license, I told the clerk that I would like a license for Sex.
He said, "I would like to have one too!" Then I said, "But she is a dog!" He said he didn't care what she looked like.
I said, "You don't understand... I have had Sex since I was nine years old." He replied,
"You must have been quite a strong boy."

When I decided to get married, I told the minister that I would like to have Sex at the wedding. He told me to wait until after the wedding was over.
I said, "But Sex has played a big part in my life and my whole world revolves around Sex."
He said he didn't want to hear about my personal life and would not marry us in his church. I told him everyone would enjoy having Sex at the wedding.
The next day we
were married at the Justice of the Peace.
My family is barred from the church from then on.

When my wife and I went on our honeymoon, I took the dog with me.
When we checked into the motel, I told the clerk that I wanted a room for me and my wife and a special room for Sex.
He said that every room in the motel is a place for sex. I said, "You don't understand. ... Sex keeps me awake at
night."
The clerk said, "Me too!"

One day I entered Sex in a contest. But before the competition began, the dog ran away.
Another contestant asked me why I was just looking around.
I told him that I was going to have Sex in the contest. He said that I should have sold my own tickets. "You don't understand," I said, "I hoped to have Sex on TV."
He called me a show off.

When my wife and I separated, we went to court to fight for custody of the dog. I said, "Your Honor, I had Sex before I was married but Sex left me after I was married." The Judge said, "Me too!"

Last night Sex ran off again. I spent hours looking all over for her.
A cop came over and asked me what I was doing in the alley at 4 o'clock in the morning.
I said, "I'm looking for Sex." - My case comes up next Thursday.

Well now I've been thrown in jail, been divorced and had more damn troubles with that dog than I ever foresaw.
Why just the other day when I went for my first session with the psychiatrist, she asked me, "What seems to be the trouble?"
I replied, "Sex has been my best friend all my life but now it has left me for ever. I couldn't live any longer so lonely." and the doctor said, "Look mister, you should understand that sex isn't a man's best friend so get yourself a dog."