My Dad

I can’t begin to say
what this guy means to me
you took me to bowie whn i was 14
hustled us into hammermith palais 1980 clash london calling
tolerated the fall (after sitting thru t passions, cure and au pairs)
and admitting the bands just get better as the evening wears on.
I miss you already. i’m glad you’re not dead – lets keep it that way

I was listening to Julie London

rolexI was just listening to Julie London
And suddenly I see the lord
what an appalling state he was in
obviously drunk off his gourd

You threw out the baby with the bathwater
Probably just as well, it was starting to smell
Nothing finer, you know your wife has acute angina
and yet still she wants to slit her wrisrs

There wouldn’t be any blood-red drink finer
there wouldn’t be any sentient being who would disagree
if you asked me, and you can ask me twice
most people wouldn’t give me the time of day
without pinching my fake rolex, it tells the correct time each day, twice



Bein chpworn on so much horse hair lateely
rhings haveven’t changed much since i last set foot in this twen

a gtommet  and a mahnotone keyset
which both still work jerk
a woekaround jerk who did some work om your ptoperty onxe before
i was with the skerriff’s leabe back then and some of us used to htown on them things

the skilet is customarally placed beside the knife
in a playground setting
in the barbershop it imply means
we’re no longer splitting haiis, now we’re spltting heirs

Too cold to live

clockpunchWho told you to move?
No-one, but since global warming
Its too cold to live there

Who said you should go?
No-one, but since I left
Found a new place to dwell, here.

Who said it was swell?
No-one I know of, but since you asked
I did, and I know its not hell here

Who punched the clock?
No-one, punching a clock would be stupid
You can’t stop time dear

oh no you don’t

you don’t have ay rights to access my records od my CDs or casseres just for the record
actually i don’t relly give a fuck whar kind of loser would be interested in that information anyway?

wat the fuck did chris heazlwood ever do that any respectable DJ would want to play?

thats assuming there is such a thing as a repectable DJ this side of Santa Monica Boulvard

and thats a hard ask, somee people would say i don’t know how hard it is, sometimes you just have to wiggle it youself and feel it
yeah you shouldn’t have asked me but seeing as you did
i’m telling you you should be more careful what you say in front of litte kids


what bears repeting in a bor-room situation may not have any relevance in the livigtoom

you may not want to draw the publics arrention to it but you can assume that its already been drewn


merely living isn’t an option anymore

operating theatre
modern operating theatre

the good die young
on a red planet you’d like to forget
Like Bill Cosby, that man you finger nightly in bed
has such a cold finger outside the bedroom, or so its been said.

his penchant for turmoil is legendary
some say it sent him directly to the mortuary
others say he flew with wings that never fuly blossomed,
i say those who believed rad

believe in youself, and practice that stance often
its not like i’m michael moore or david giffen
by the same token i’m no david gates
i just spill out the words i been given, i don’t claim to be no jeremy piven

its 9 am now is some parts of amaerica
but theres a whole heap of people that haven’t woken up yet
to face the facts, the lesser of the evils is still the devil
it may be pure evil or not, either way i’m not buying it

i’d rather die than live in it, the way crooked world Hillary and crazy Trump are painting it

The modern operating theater is no Shakespeare’s Globe
But neither is it a Watershed or Mercury
Today’s operating theater is not your fathers
Nor is it a stage for a sitcom about  Freddie Mercury

Rock The Hudson

birdsworthRock the Hudson like you’re “Sully” Sullenberger
I got the meat patty, wheres the rest of my burger?
Squeeze my buns, they’re not made out of plastic
Better give my 9 more feet of that underwear elastic

I’m rockin the Hudson like theres no tomorrow
Little Orphan Annie swept through the hollow
She’s going away for a long stretch, it’ll be no bally holiday
Slammed up with the big girls, this aint Wentworth, its Holloway

You’re not in Wentworth anymore, you may think you’re Bea
You aint even on the Bea list, you’re barely Birdsworth
You got a lot of nerve to keep me waiting on the Hudson
Its been so long  its like waiting at the bus stop to pick up my cousin