Techniques
Not to be sniffed at
I awoke
Shaking like a death rattle
Clinical smoke
Dripped from insular,,,,,,,
I said insular trees

I’m only
Only here
To contradict
Your molten virtues

Appease me with cloth
Heed,,,,,I’m abounded here
Watching others close the deals
I couldn’t even arouse,,,,

Maybe I’m in the slipstream
Of other people’s faith
A fatter yet unendorsable licence
And age has an indefinable taste.

Go get em rag arse!

Dance the phony victory
Dance in new cloggs
Dance for your momma
Dance for Joe Bloggs
Dance for some more cookies
Dance the dance of denial
Dance and parade those wares
Dance like an imaginative child
Dance as if you trust the night
Dance so you just can’t speak
Dance through the interview
Dance razor to cheek
Dance as if you used to be a cripple
Dance like a burning blue Pan
Dance off your hard nipples
Dance for a man
Dance for a man
Dance like a red rag
Dance like Picasso’s Minotaur
Dance your way right into a shag
Then dance your way straight back outta that door
Dance like Joyce McKinney
Mormon sex in chains
Dance like machine gun fire
Dance away those spunk stains
Dance like a hippo
Dance you futile virgin twats
Dance and let her flick your Zippo
I’m so Tarrantino-ly impressed with all that!
Dance cos you’ve had a bath
Dance whilst you take a shit
Dance with replicas that laugh
Dance because you think your fit
Dance and then run away
In case they ask you to explain
Where you gotcha moves all from
And just what is your fuckin little game?
Dance like a helicopter
Dance you dying bream
Dance like the good good Doctor
Dance cos your on a government training scheme
Dance like a pincushion
In Debenhams
Saturday morning
First come
First served
Traditional type of scrum down
Sale!

I ain't a celebrity
Does that mean I got no voice
I'm sick of the conceit and shallowness
Are we all just handicapped toys?
Are we all just fucked up handicapped toys?
Spiritual Spastics!!
Don't wanna watch killjoy
He's ok ok ok union jack
A failed politician
Is like methadone is to smack
Can't play the race card
But Salford turns your soul so black
London's full of greedy bastards
And there's never no turning
No turning back
Never no turning
No turning back!
She dresses like some has been off an american show
Rattles her keys like a high class pro
Downloads a personality
And calls me a misogynist
I'm just an old fashioned man with boundaries
You got fuck all to say girl till your falling about pathetically pissed!
The radio has no guts
Glossy magazines are run by sensible nuns
Keep the kids subdued with bribes
Play station whose destination is sore bum
Destination sore bum!
No more revolutions
No renaissance to fathom in awe
Just a zoo full of copy-cats and cock-suckers
Dogs that roll over take it up the arse whist giving you their broken paw
Haw,,,,,,,,,,Haw.
We aint attractive creatures
And there's no talent in our kind
Can't afford the good stuff
Charisma is in the family bloodline
We are the ordinary twats
We haven't got a clue
Never listened to the lecture on obedience
All we will inherit is some second-hand charity shop blues.
They only got as much power
As you give em off yourself
There aint nothing special about no one
Apart from the bank manager's mental health.
A power trip and average pension
In a glass cage
Protection and detention!!
They is either sycophants
Or assassins, next-door neighbors or even relatives.. !
Could be worse
You could be a floppy banker who's a bit of a clerk
Wearing a table cloth in work
Grinning like a somnambulist
With acute cystitis
And Ulterior,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,motives
Have a nice day
Y'all