3/ The Feel Good Factor

The feel good factor of the feel-goods
Is something that the world should just spit on
When lovelessness like a short circuit in the brain
Is the cut that stops a person feeling sane

Before I got separated from the love I thought I knew
I thought I saw the other side of the hill
And there I saw the love I really thought I knew
And my heart is buried around there still

Now beer seems to make a small room feel much bigger
And beer also seems to slow down time
And beer seems to put off the day of disaster
And it seems to cushion the heart against love’s crime

Horse stealing used to be a favorite pastime
To watch the horses run was like a breath
I sold them to drink a lot of red wine
But horse stealing to some is deserving of dearth

Big sir what do I wish for
I wish for no responsibility
This love is a millstone I can’t carry
I’ve loved you but you didn’t love me

6/ Who Rocks England Now?

6/ Who Rocks England Now?

Who rocks England now, you cow, you dog, you wolf, you whore
Knocking on the door of the law of love – who rocks England now?

Who rocks England now, you smug jug on a silk rug by the fire of dire corrosive heat where the feet of angels stamp their feet in disgust at the blood and lust married in a church of rust.

Who rocks England now? You pigs, you wigs and Tories, Mr Biggs all trampling on blood and stained four-leaf clover standing on the chalk-white cliffs of Dover singing “Who are you kidding Mr Hitler if you think old England’s done” for fun while ladies in white dresses run from the maniacs we’ve become.

Yea, who rocks England now you bum who lives by the sun and backs war and buys his pleasure from a foreign backdoor. Yea, who rocks England now you scum you son of gun, you bum.

I ache for all time, I pain, I see the love going down your drain in stitches and sutures embroidery stitches. Yea look what you’ve become.
Just look you, mad hatter, just look.
Just look what you’ve become.

Yea who rocks England now you turd you bird of prey who prays all day for a perfect system to pave the way so you can keep your mansions, palaces, worldly wisdom’s tampons filled with blood and I ask what for so what. Yea who rocks England now?

It’s not your mother it’s not your sister it’s not your lover. It’s some strange world of another weather of steel and leather.
Who, who, who, who?
Who stupid dark destructive fool
Who rocks England now?

During the war, you were such a bore thinking more of the cricket score
Times were dull; death was cheap who lives who’s taken a foreign street
And out we came from that tunnel of hate madder than bulls loose a slaughterhouse
When the lights turned red and the BBC read through the football pools we
Drifted like sheep in the clouds of sleep
And awake to this technology and piss
Which is what goes down the drain at night
All the spittle all the spite the sex and drugs the lonesome cry
Of the suicide who doesn’t want to die
As the church is filled with the words of love
Of homosexuals, paedophiles and demons from above
And what do you care you got what you want
You middle-class bastard you working-class runt
You upper class snivelling fame-seeking whore
Who rocks England now?

I was afraid of reaching this age

I was afraid of reaching this age
I was told it’s when you start dying.

With so many things unsaid, in my head, in my heart, torn apart
I was afraid time would stampede, crying

Before I could sort out what needs to be said
About the world that’s been lying

Lying about love, life and death
Lying without even trying.

It’s been my fear that the pictures in my heart
The works in my soul, the loneliness of my mind

Would be cut short by this stressful life

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