Tag Archives: notepad

72. Fox Cakes

Stop huntin’ for fox cakes.
Stop huntin’ for fox cakes.
Slow down, put on your brakes.
Stop hunting for fox cakes.
Have a look in Tesco’s,
Don’t follow the dog’s nose
And stop huntin’ foxes
For fuck sakes.
Get off your horse,
You’ve lost your course.
Put on some trousers
To cover them drawers
And stop hunting
For fox cakes.

A side…

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B side…

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Shaky photography and lyrics are of my own hypocritical hand.

68. walks in dreams

Have you seen the sort that walks in dreams
Forever walking, always screams, never talking
He cries the pain of the knowing with deep foreboding
He cries at the sky for most of the night
Vanishing outta sight before first light
Only to return at the next full moon
He had left his loved ones far too soon
Not knowing now what next to do
He rises from his heap of rust, every dusk
To continue his quest
His search won’t stop ’til he can rest
Can’t take a break to eat for his body forever sleeps
Since his car hit the bar blocking the way
Protecting the church for their pray day.

56. The Gravy Train

Isn’t it funny how, you always help your mates
but you probably wouldn’t like it
if your family asked for the same.
We always hurt the ones we love
the lesson is learnt
water is thinner than blood
bloods thicker than water
we never do as we oughta.
It isn’t funny now
we are like lambs to the slaughter,
my brain strains, like money down a drain
everyone jumps the gravy train
hoping for a free ride
but don’t push your family to the side.
Isn’t it funny how we are all to proud.
It’s all about the here and now!

55. Glutton for Punishment

i’m a glutton for punishment
don’t look at me with such astonishment
everythin i do is wrong
for instance, take a look at this song
can’t even toke on a decent bong
without coughing my guts up
forever stuck in a rut
i wanna work but i hate waking up
never had the best of luck
i’m a glutton for punishment
much to my detriment.
Glutton. But tough like mutton.
the long way round always feels quicker
this country mouse aint no city-slicker
i cycled the miles and i walked on by
i never did learn to drive
jus get high and walk on by.
Aah that’s the life.

52. she sings a song

She sings a song to warn the world
“the sun is rising; i’ll soon be flying
here i am, catch me if you can
catch me if you can, here i am, here i am.”
Brave lil bird repeats her greeting
sees a shadow in the breeze fleeting.
The sly fox he trots up to the tree
“little bird, little bird, did you call me?”
“funny old fox, if these wings could throw rocks
that’s what they would do, i assure you.
go to bed go to bed; it isn’t you i dread
for here comes the sun; your nocturnal day is done.”
From a twig of the tree she spreads her wings;
starts to fly and starts to sing:
“the sun is rising, the dew is drying
here i am flying, here i am flying.”
oh she’s making such a sound,
the cat in the hedge is woken and roused
he slowly stalks her through his shade
preparing for the morning raid.
As she sings he spies her brood
four little eggs; her treasure chests
“would i be rude” he mused “if only an empty nest was left”
a fleeting thought
the fox was sly
into the brambles and out from the side
the cat let out a mortal cry.
Dawn’s chorus was morbid.