I’m a sheep.
Hear me bleat.
Shear my fleece
Cos bein a sheep aint cheap.
Take my wool.
Three bags full.
You must think me a fool
Yet ’tis i who stands tall.
I’m no shabby-chic sheep
That goes weak at the knees,
Asking to be fleeced.
Controlled consumer disease.
Oppressed and repressed.
Celebrities side track us
While i watch society rust
Though i confess
That i have faith in us
To rise and uprise
Through counsel of the truly wise.
To show true humanity and humility.
To resolve to evolve.
Looking for liberation.
Am i naive to believe
It could be so easy
As to break on through
To the Otherside
Of Love and Light
And the Eternal Mind?
Lyrics and photography by my own amateur hand.
Hey crazy lady get off the road
’cause some nasty bastards
will run over ya toes
Don’t lean over to their windows
you gonna get arrested
for actin like a hoe
But come with me
And let’s go mine
Cause i got the money
and if you got the time
Don’t mind the dog
Don’t worry he won’t bite
Hey is that all you charge
do you wanna spend the night?
let’s create equality by making things non-equal.
i don’t believe in fairness or rights…ok… i teach my kid about fairness and rights but how does one thing have more right than another?
i don’t have any real Right to anything but we are taught from a young age to take what is rightfully ours.
every good child on the planet gets a visit from Santa…well…apart from the lost south american tribes. equality and rights. maybe Santa is rascist or something?
women want us all to be equal, well, except on wimmins day.
something about how men are arseholes i think, as if life should be fair.
fair? while there are kids starving in the Third world? i thought earth was the third world? we should be in it together!
fair is when no-one gets a special day…that would be fair.
lets knock all these stupid special days on the head, easter and crimbo included!
i don’t need a calendar to remind me to treat the lil brat or other loved ones!
and remember, all these special days whether fathers or mothers day or gay day (is there a hetrosexual day?), they are thought up by money makers. which is fine if you have money, but then don’t complain that you are treated unfairly, just remember while you eat your choccy or smell your flowers…the starving millions that shit in the communal pond or ditch, fat with malnutrition. where do they get their water from while you drink wine from a crystal glass?
Darlin’ i don’t like to hear you cry
Makes me think that things aint right
All of the day and most of the night
I love you and don’t wanna fight
Katie, Honey, what do you want of me
You helped me spend all of the money
Let’s play in the park while it’s still sunny
I’m sorry i can’t find your mummy.
authors note; don’t worry guys n girls, she has regular contact with her mum nowadays, things were difficult for a while but that’s in the past 🙂
at the age of ten we moved from one side of town to the other, this was my first experience of turf wars, it seems even the teachers played this nasty game of ownership.
we were a poor family, my mum worked as often as possible while my stepdad drank the earnings.
anyway…we lived roughly three miles from this new school unless you wanna walk past John Bunyan’s Birthplace which was a shorter walk but more muddy and dodgy, especially in the dark winter.
most kids caught the bus, if their parents could afford to, they payed, if they couldn’t afford to, you got a free ticket.
we couldn’t afford the bus most of the time and rarely had a car so tried getting the free bus ticket.
but it turns out that for whatever reason, my family wasn’t included in the scheme, fukk knows why, i was just a child.
so it was that me and my younger bro would walk to school in the wind/rain/hail/snow, british weather is beautiful but not when you’re ten years old, walking home in the pitch-black, as the school kids drive past in their warm dry bus, laughing out of the windows.
this was the start of something but i didn’t know.
one day, my brother was really ill (his condition is now known about) and the teachers brought me to one side to explain that we would have to use the bus (i could feel their condescension) and i knew i would be bullied for it (you’re only on this bus cos ya bruvva’s poorly hahahahahahaha).
in that moment of selfish self pity, i wanted my bro to walk home with me, or a family friend to meet him off the bus so i could walk, but in my heart f hearts, i knew i was being silly so i got on the bus and met the truth, i wasn’t silly i was correct.
i swore i would never use another bus (even now i hate buses but admit their usefulness).
sometimes my dad would have a car, usually a scrapheap which bore more derision from my peers etc. a lad actually had the cheek to ask for a lift but got out early so no-one could see him lmao.
through all this, i was walking a hell of a lot, the local shop shut so just getting a pint of milk was a 4mile walk. and the walk-time was thought-time. i had a lot of time to think and resent this material life. i didn’t realise it was making me stronger…yet.
in school we were being taught that Africans had to walk so many miles every day, aren’t we lucky?
if only they thought about what they were telling me… we don’t need transport.
to this day, i’ve never learnt to drive, and only bus if family life dictates.
i’ve quickly wrote this and posting it before i can delete it
Selling war for profit
In the name of religion and prophets
“In God we trust
Money is a must”
Blood spills to mud
From a stab in the gut
Hell on earth, heaven above
In the name of so called love
I can smell the stench of lust
Corroding people to rust.
Have you ever seen the money
that grows on the trees
The notes fall to the floor
in the cool autumn breeze
Well it’s just a piece of my fantasy
To help me cope with reality
Have you ever seen the shop
where everything is free
From the biggest munchies
to the most potent green
Well that’s just another
piece of my fantasy
It helps me deal with normality
If you ever see some ladies
looking for me
Tell ’em where i live ’cause
that’s where i’ll be
But they’re just a piece of my fantasy
Another part of my daydream
Don’t give an inch
‘Cause they’re gonna take a mile
Then they ask for more
With a sarcastic smile;
Tax, they say,
Never goes out of style.
We earn our wheat,
They charge us in grain.
What’s goin’ on with the price of life today?
beggars can’t be choosers
winners choose the losers
time stands still for the roofless
and holds no sway for the ruthless
those who save should do so for today
as the morrow brings a new game to play
counting chickens is easy pickings
till batch by batch they refuse to hatch
and all that’s left are rotten eggs
broken dreams of money chests
winners are now losers
the hungry still they die
a lesson could be learnt
that money should be burnt
to put this world to rights