stevie mccabe's diabolic blog

April 12, 2014

(My) Pez Ma

Filed under: 2014 Stuff — Stevie McCabe @ 12:31 am

pezFingerlickin good I tell you, every little piece is dynamite
Luckily its a Saturday, I could be up all nite
I think maybe I finally met my my-my bette noir
Here she pull up in her Plymouth Dodge with a left hand drive Pez Ma

ch:
Today I feel so full, I’m like an animal on heat
Today I feel so good tomorrow I’ll be beat
Tomorrows for the birds, I really can’t say ya
The next days for the rest, the people love Pez Ma

Soggy biscuit say goodbye – to your little friend
The winds of change are blowin in – El Nino is the trend
Its so hot an eagle couldn’t land any place between here and thar
When the Eagles said you better take it easy didn’t think they meant my Pez Ma

ch:
And all the native girls present themselves with beads
Shells and trinkets go so well with ants and centipedes
We can all fly like birds the skies they stretch so far
Soaring like our ancestors, the dinosaur Pez Ma

Yo ma’s so Pez, she’s not allowed to drink no Diet Coke
Yo ma’s so Stoked to live in the valley of the toke
The only thing that makes it better is the peace of mind in thar
Sober as a sabre rattler handing out pez ma

March 13, 2014

Whitewall The House

Filed under: evil, fashion, humanity, hurt, People, Poetry, seething rage, Songs, Tradition — Stevie McCabe @ 4:31 am

whitehouseI don’t what you heard about be but i whitewall the house
like no other brother
thinkin of stinkin or sinkin the ship think again,

i’m bobbing up smiling like anew kinda brotha
a sistah from anotha mama

stabbing features now in a round trip of pain
the sideburns are burning, was it all in vain

filled my mind up at the rotocup but chose not to drink my fill
spilt the leftovers at my side then went in to pay my bill

gagging waiting to leave
silk fire flowing in the breeze
dumbfounded , lackadaisical esoterically so
pungently fragrant i love your smell so

fire and ice on ice as it were
screaming like banshees in darfur
consolidate the payment i i would concur
insulate your losees i would have to defer

wagging on the wankster at 2 AM
lookin out the window at the sun rising
biting the flesh off the withered stumps
chump change for the money much too tight to mention

January 8, 2014

Thats what you think

Filed under: 2013 stuff — Stevie McCabe @ 9:39 am
20140108-093505.jpg

I used to think what I want but thats what you think
I used to double entendre i’d do it all nite, its like a snoop thing
Every little piece of my heart is beating up a hobo
And theres a dime for every single time you get called a homo

I used to think I’d get my mojo workin again but thats what you think
I thought all it really needed was some elbow grease but no such noo thing
Thought I’d supplant the mighty bull with a shitload of bull
Now i’m cryin at the crossing by my ol primary school
i used to think i knew what i wanted but honey thats what you think

i do think …

August 4, 2013

Sent u a nutsack

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stevie McCabe @ 8:53 am

Sent u a nutsack in a brown paper bag
Sealed with a kiss from me…

July 7, 2013

Powder keg (like, reply, who doesn’t want their yub nob rubbe once in a blue harvest moon?

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stevie McCabe @ 4:45 pm

Special Friends

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stevie McCabe @ 3:54 pm

She picks up the rice from the scene where an Asian wedding has been
nobody’s keener than wasabi, know what i mean
everything glistens but its not all gold
everyone listens but som don’t do what they’re told

Special friends are the living end
Next comes the sequel for which there is no equal, till the next time

Hammer hardware sausage sizzle
excuse me while i sap this guys drizzle
sandwiched twixt a rock and a hard place
rock n roll aint no place to put up a coalface

california dreaming all the leaves are brown
everybodys dreaing bout santa monica lewinsky’s boulevard
san atonnios texas rose cokked to a tee
sizzlin on the platter like a steampot of tea

show me!

 

New nutsack in town

have you heard the latest sound?
all eyes on me and most of them are brown
IKts the craziest sound you ever heard in your life,
don’t take your wife, don’t think twice, don’t think, quickly, twice

crical embolisms at the end of the line,
c’est magnifique, thres a new court jester saddling up to straddle the pipeline
sandals on the upmarket jandals reeking of soho and django reinhardt
how come a pizza tastes so good when you eat it listning to amy winehouse

cluttering up the real thing, dancing on the ceiling
its a lionel ritchie witch hunt
a blurry bare witch project

barely a thrombosis
lions, witches hoses,
dig the stand, the lock of hair that keeps you locked baway for year on end
will it never end

June 12, 2013

Sin City South

you know its a sin
when you pull in
to Sin City, Sin City South
Shut your potty mouth

The place is a wielding iron
for lovers to heave and breed
pedal to the metal
self-serving hard as tungsten for a while and a smile
a lifetime of gabby mouth and potty-ass

Shoulda kept your potty mouth shut
Simply the beast on a formica top
paddle to the melamine surface
celibate slippery sperm
too many loose to count

Spurting silver jam
slippin all over the place
erstwhile spilt spelt oldschool style
split to an inch of its life,
but oh what a life

I’d trade it for a lifetime
yessir i’d trade it for a lifetime

May 23, 2013

All kinds of powders

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stevie McCabe @ 7:10 am

It takes all kinds of powders
To keep my powder-keg dry
All kinds of powders
To stop it from exploding in your eye

The keg fuse is burning
And the powder is dry
Livin in the city
It’s hard, but I’ll give it a try

You get your powder from the soup kitchen
Anything that gets you by
Make it through another evening
Cold turkey in a pie

Not every kinda powder
Will help you through the night
Stick in with the program
And keep yr powder dry

No more Kennedys

Filed under: 2013 stuff, Anger, bleak, destiny, history, Hope, humanity, People, seething rage — Stevie McCabe @ 7:10 am

Please please please
No more Kennedy’s
Nigger please please
Let there be no more kennedys

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