stevie mccabe's diabolic blog

March 31, 2011

Sugar and Salt (sweet thang)

Filed under: Hope, Love, People, Songs — Stevie McCabe @ 5:58 pm

Sugar and Salt, Molasses and Malt
Thats what my little girl is made of
Precious things, sweeter than a sweathog
Worth more Dinaras than Bernie Madoff

I’m pitchin a tent for her, mowin the lawn
I’m washing the hotrod, dusting off my coat
Puttin on a brand new fresh uniform
Turning a leaf like Truman Capote

Candy and Lime, its candy time
Sweltering curries on a piping hot day
Mirror balls spin every time she walks by
Nobody knows what to do or say

Brushin up my overcoat, dustin my tales
Brushin up on my English with the Canterbury Tales
Saber toothed tigers made of sable
The fabled material of old kings and fable

March 25, 2011

Cloud over my shoulder

Filed under: Collective Consciousness, Events, history, Hope, humanity, Songs, Tide, Time, Tragedy — Stevie McCabe @ 6:37 pm

There’s a cloud over my shoulder
Dirt under my thumbnail
President in a pinstripe suit finds it hard
to launder the loot and bury Knute

In the same breath as greeting Saddam and Saddat,
sit down when you’re drinking, you can’t do that

Theres a silver lined cloud over my shoulder
a thorium cloud seeping over and over
theres not enough water for my beautiful baby
somebody save me, hells too hot for babies!

My beautiful moratorium burns while Rome fiddles
its for the kids, I keep telling you, the piggies in the middle
they are all that make sense in this cirque-de-sol world
the circle of life is an inaccurate parrallel

Alpine horns trumpet the dawn of the mountain age
for all the rage its time that you act your age
fingernails on the blackboard of time
send freaking shivers down your spine

[Rousing Chorus]
Cloud over my shoulder
Could it be any bolder
One more cigarette then I’m off to my destiny
Dropping my concrete bomb.

Shagged Rock

Filed under: Christchurch, Events, history, Hope, Rock, Songs, Tide, Tragedy — Stevie McCabe @ 5:08 pm

Shagged rock – its the truth its the proof
watcha gonna do when the rock police crush you
When all the outsiders are gone and no-one trusts you
When the hillbillies buy up your texas tea

Shagged rock – nothin left nothing to say
a mountain lion pile of rubble, shouldn’t be that way
once i found some kind of thrill
my love leaves limping with a sugar pill

the george and mildred syndrome
just-in-time reporting if you’d just read the intro
49 local D.A.’s
put their faith in the report and lock them away

[middle 8]
I’ll come and meet you on some other day
because today it aint no solitary day
today i’m mourning, later i’ll be nooning
after that who knows i think the hedge needs a-pruning

We aren’t the world – we are Christchurch!

Filed under: Christchurch, Collective Consciousness, Events, history, Hope, humanity, People, Psychology, Songs, Spirituality, Time — Stevie McCabe @ 4:54 pm

This marshland was always mind-boggling
Miss Marsh it does get in! Cut to the chalk
Wakin up to rubble is hard to do
skeletal buildings hard live with or in

A crazy shaken baby, you know you should never shake a baby
Baby’s on fire, baby blue, shaken till the nappies have vibe
Drive your car off the cliff and you’re still around
Does your inviolability know no bounds?

Of course if you’re reading you’re lucky to be alive
preening, careening, preparing for lifes next journey
the inspector’s around, look alive, look ‘normal’
under the rug with uncle ernie

[middle 8 and main chorus]
We aren’t the world – we are christchurch
come on kiwis have faith in life’s lurch
nothing can bring you down
whoever your god is you’re still a clown

we aren’t the world, and we aren’t ‘just’ christchurch
all we need is the air we breathe and to love the city of christchurch
let it rock, let it shake have it your own way
avon punts, crushed straw hats have something to say!

March 24, 2011

rock kids can’t tell (what rock is)

Filed under: Beliefs, Collective Consciousness, history, Rock, Songs, Tragedy, Violence — Stevie McCabe @ 8:27 pm

used to be rock kids were sharp as a tack
pick up their axes and ack-ack-ack
Tube-ism a You-phenism for Alberta rocks
Like Una Stubbs, locked up for a stretch in the docks

Each time the heatwave passes,
a little tornado blows me
Every time i stick it to the upper classes
the wind cries Mary

Chinese Rock is marching to your shores,
pretty soon you won’t be able to stand up
since the incident at LA County Jail
I give a fist to the face not a handup

Dandelion blowin in the wind
gimme a chance to unwind
feathers and lead weights falling about
constantly blowing my mind

March 23, 2011

king of basketball

Filed under: Beliefs, Hope, humanity, People, Songs — Stevie McCabe @ 12:45 am

orange and dimpled like a giant orange
what if he’d never grown so tall
nikes and short-shorts a giraffe throat lozenge
only the best for the king of basketball

shoe-sock arrangements written for him
the prince of the jumpshot, the master of hoops
languishing under the salary cap
firing on all five cinderblock coops

nightly, twice nightly, thrice nightly 10-pointers
anointed, appointed, employed and annoying
you can enjoy these spoils by only
being yourself, enthused, tired and cloying

March 22, 2011

Gave my love a gift

Filed under: Hope, Love, People, Songs — Stevie McCabe @ 11:03 am

Gave my love a cubic zirconia
The best one i could find
all the summer love in the world
is blow’d like dust in the wind

Gave my love a knock-off Nike hat
She said it was just fine
Never saw her wearing it
through rose glasses of wine

Gave my love a half-price ticket
To the Mother Goose reunion
At the back of the mosh pit
Could hardly get a word in

Gave my love a perspex onion
its beauty made her cry
Gave her all these things and yet she
sighs, sighs, size

[Middle 8]

This motley pile of offerings
This humble set of gifts
The snifters and the Sorhgum
The rides in Schindler’s Lifts
Why is it not enough
Why can’t it be enough
Maybe life is just too rough
Maybe i’m not tough enough

March 13, 2011

kermadec rifles

Filed under: Beliefs, Collective Consciousness, Hope, humanity, Songs, Time — Stevie McCabe @ 4:30 pm

the kermadec rifles, hail to the pondscum
nobody knows where my bonnie came from
nobody knows what happened to her,
sealed in the diplomat’s bathroom, assured

kermadec rifles they ring for a moment
but ammo is short, intruders intolerant
maybe the time is now, maybe its not
maybe its half past midnite slight echo is all we got

help ourselves help ourslves
while others help themselves
you aint no better than elves
if you wanna, here it is, delve.

ocean on the sea, planet
- dammit j, put a lid on the planet
frustrated crustaceans getting hot as a gas planet
didn’t see it coming, dammit, your virtues intimate

Theres a threshhold

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stevie McCabe @ 4:24 pm

There’s a threshhold, a scientific de-termined point
when things don’t make sense
tired of the barrow, shovelling shit thru the bowsplit of an arrow.. oh, oh

Sister Europe, sippin on a sugarfree stella
please please yourself select a sugarfree euro seller

Su-ez, su-ez, who are you
holding to ransom the hand that built you
while killing your workforce in the process
i believe that needs to be prescribed in tiny doses

The grocer you get it from becomes der grosser
looser than a doubleblind laxative expose

March 10, 2011

Angel of Misery

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stevie McCabe @ 10:27 pm

shine like a flamin star
you know who you are
its no longer a mystery
only misery

hearts a clangin
don’t leave her dangling
she’s really such a changeling
but thats not the strange thing

we all know who you are
it’s not a mystery
we all know who you were
you’re history!
angel of misery

at night when i brush my teeth
i should know better than to believe
i pray each nite you’ll come around
we can make the greatest sound

ringing peace through all the land
goods will be with you angels are at hand
calling all angels, mystery angels
come be my angel of misery

don’t hold my feet to the candle
i’d rather be on a right angle
the gyroscopic handle
will keep the camera at the right angle

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