The Saxophone teacher looks exactly like a saxophonist should: under regulation height, with more stubble than seems feasible, a roll-neck jumper and just the vague suspicion that, in a bag not a million miles away, there is a peaked felt cap which will only ever be worn backwards. I suspect that if I look closely I will see fingers yellowed from smoking too many roll-ups of “herbal” cigarettes, but nonetheless instantly feel strangely reassured.
It’s Wednesday night and his class has about twenty minutes left to run. I’m upstairs in a building that stands on the ground where my Head Master once broke a classroom window whilst playing cricket with the sixth-formers and thinking about lessons in general.
I guess I was about 11 when I first thought about learning the guitar. Our Kid (northern slang for younger sibling) was already playing keyboard by then and was on book three of the Vince Clark songbook (or so it seemed – anyone not familiar with the works of Mr Clark should do a search in Wikipedia for Depeche Mode, Yazoo and Erasure) – but I fancied the guitar as my instrument of choice.
The problem being that by then it had been made clear to me that teachers were Strange Alien Beings To Be Feared and that they were of the considered opinion that I had all the intellectual capacity of a wet cabbage – so the thought of asking about lessons was utterly terrifying to me. It didn’t help that we had two music teachers at our school: one of whom made the local tramp (the one who walked down the subways yelling “AAAAAAHH, up the bee-gees, up the bee-gees” in a heavy Irish accent) look sane, the other couldn’t bear to look at us until her fourth cup of coffee – in three years of music lessons we would see one xylophone once and that was it, but on my first day in class I made a point of walking in first so I could stay behind after everyone else had gone and ask about lessons…and then totally bottled it (chickened out).
I was seventeen when I finally started after school lessons through the community college where the teachers were happy to teach you anything as long as it wasn’t complicated, then left and just carried on playing and recording at home happy in the knowledge that I would never be Eric Clapton (hell I’d have settled for his second cousin Dave)
But at some point along the way I started thinking about other instruments – I’m always interested in trying something new. I have something of a gadfly mind and it tends to jump about and try and do everything (sometimes I think it would be nice to be focussed)
And then a few years passed
And then I saw that my old school were doing evening classes in Saxophone – something I had been interested in for a while: only the lessons were Wednesday night.
Toastmasters night. Bugger.
So there I was, chatting to some old geezer about Guitar Pull evenings at a local pub whilst I waited for the Saxophone teacher to finish up with his class so I could ask about private lessons that would bring me up to speed for the advanced (Monday evening) classes.
Saxophone – invented by Peter Saxon and Padraig O’Phone..or maybe not
The musical instrument most associated with the “J” word (and for my opinion on Jazz see the above and the comment made by Jimmy Rabbitte in “The Commitments”)
When the class have finished SaxMan gives me a quote for tuition and it sounds a bit pricey for one person – which is when I remember that Argent has previously mentioned that she owns an Alto Sax but hasn’t touched it in years. I decide to see if she would be interested in starting again.
SaxMan gives me his number and I go away, texting Argent – who seems positively thrilled at the idea and offers to go and pick up the Sax that I’ve had my eye on for a couple of weeks – I subsequently collect it from her and, after several hours of turning an unnatural shade of beetroot manage to elicit the sort of sound that is usually made by a rabbit that has been tortured by a cat for some hours before finally being bashed against a brick wall.
A couple of weeks pass and things get a bit hectic. Argent and I have agreed to work towards an Open Mike night and now it is upon us meaning that we have Final Practice (Friday eve), Open Mike (Monday), Saxophone lesson (Tuesday) and Toastmasters (Wednesday).
BTW – on the subject of the open mike I’m going to leave it to Argent to comment on that other than to say that I spent too long staring at the floor and my lyrics when I didn’t need to and was relieved a) not to be accosted by the usual drunk man who has taken a fancy to me and b) the crowd were politely indifferent instead of openly hostile.
And then the first practice – SaxMan arrives with barely a sign of the peaked-cap, but still wearing the trademark Jean-Paul Satre jumper and talks us both through setting up the sax and the proper way to blow (turns out that the wording in my book was misleading, leading me to think I had to bite down on the reed). It turns out his favourite word is OK (pronouned slightly nasally to sound like no-kay) and then he shows me what I've been doing wrong and mercy of mercies – a whole two notes come out.
OK so Courtney Pine is not going to be losing any sleep any time soon, but I think we both enjoyed the session and that SaxMan was suitably impressed. It’s like learning my chords all over again – I know that all it needs is a little more practice and that wobbly sound will go away (until such time as it is required)
So the upshot of this post is – if there’s something you’ve been wanting to do for a while but haven’t gotten around to it: go and try it. You never know – a couple of years down the line we could have a group internet jam as we all play along to Baker Street
Take it away Bob Holness…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgbGaYTkkPU
(the link to post Gerry Rafferty’s infamous song was disabled, so you’ll just have to visit the site)
NB: despite all the internet rumours to the contrary Bob (the former host of All Time Greatest Quiz Show Blockbusters and one time radio James Bond) did NOT play the famous sax line on Baker Street. Not even a tiny little bit.
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Monday, 22 March 2010
TFE's Monday Protest Bus
This week Total Feckin Eejit has asked us all to show solidarity to the wrong that was done to him by not winning the best blog award by writing a Protest Poem...
Well: here's the thing...I was hoping to get my guitar out and my video out and record this song for you, but time flies like an arrow and a banana flies like a fruit (Groucho Marx, the more funny brother of Karl) and I never did get around to it.
This is one of the first songs I wrote when I started learning the guitar and wasn't quite confident enough to take it seriously yet - so with apologies to Bob Dylan, Lloyd "Through The Keyhole" Grossman and Neil Inness here is:
Protest Song
Well you can't trust the Government, you can't trust the law
They'll kick in your head, when they kick down the door
Some people are crazy, some people are sane
But the world is dying, so get that round your brain
If you watch through my keyhole, you'll get a poke in the eye
And there's many a people would say, hey!
Don't mess with the master, don't argue with me
Or I'll come round and block up your drains
Well I work for a living, but they took it from me
With taxes and bills on everything you see
My kids all hate me, my wife she left me
But that's a mixed blessing if you know what I mean...
If you watch through my keyhole you'll get a poke in the eye
And there's many a people would say, hey!
Don't mess with the master, don't argue with me
Or I'll come round and block up your drains
Probably a good idea that we didn't put that one on the set list...
Well: here's the thing...I was hoping to get my guitar out and my video out and record this song for you, but time flies like an arrow and a banana flies like a fruit (Groucho Marx, the more funny brother of Karl) and I never did get around to it.
This is one of the first songs I wrote when I started learning the guitar and wasn't quite confident enough to take it seriously yet - so with apologies to Bob Dylan, Lloyd "Through The Keyhole" Grossman and Neil Inness here is:
Protest Song
Well you can't trust the Government, you can't trust the law
They'll kick in your head, when they kick down the door
Some people are crazy, some people are sane
But the world is dying, so get that round your brain
If you watch through my keyhole, you'll get a poke in the eye
And there's many a people would say, hey!
Don't mess with the master, don't argue with me
Or I'll come round and block up your drains
Well I work for a living, but they took it from me
With taxes and bills on everything you see
My kids all hate me, my wife she left me
But that's a mixed blessing if you know what I mean...
If you watch through my keyhole you'll get a poke in the eye
And there's many a people would say, hey!
Don't mess with the master, don't argue with me
Or I'll come round and block up your drains
Probably a good idea that we didn't put that one on the set list...
Sunday, 21 March 2010
Wordzzle 103
Well it's been one of those weeks this week where I had lots of things I wanted to post about but somehow never got around to doing. Like last saturday when i went to a 1 day art course, only I turned up on the wrong day and ended up with a painting of flowers instead of a landscape (admittedly very nice flowers, but still not a landscape)
Or the endless bus journeys that I now have to face and my joy that cycling season is soon approaching, or my trip to London to sell some old videos
Or the upcoming gig...
But time had smacked me around the head until i am truly dizzy and so i find myself having to push these things aside to bring you my regular entry to the fun:
As some of you will already know the excellent Raven has been experiencing computer problems as of late, but still managed to put some words up for useage
Every week she sets a total of 15 words which can be used for a mini (5), main (10) or massiv (15) challenge and you have to write a story encorporating those words
This week's 10-word challenge: culture, sheep, skin, mentally, box, desert, several people, church, Greece, thirst,
The mini challenge: swimming pool, cargo, czar, focus, fine
As with last week we re-join the crew of the HMS Frightfully Sorry as they splice their mainsails, heave ho all the me harties they can manage and generally fail to make any progress in...
Four Sheets To The Wind
The door of the Captain’s cabin opened slowly. Captain Hogarth put down the pickled Sheep and picked a piece of mutton out of his beard
“Ah Colinberry! Excellent to see you!”
First Mate Jenkins sighed and pushed the door a little wider. What was it about Sunday afternoons that the Captain found so hard to cope with? Perhaps it was the four hour church service in which Pastor Glennig had preached about shipwrecks until several people had seen their breakfast for the second time that day, or perhaps it was the side-effects of all that salt water, but the Captain always seemed to be mentally in a different place to everyone else
“It’s Jenkins sir” the First Mate corrected.
“So it is!” boomed Hogarth, “Come in Jenkins and tell me again how long it is until we return to Hogarthland?”
This was a new one to the First Mate, who frowned and tried to focus on anything that had happened recently that his Captain could be referring to, “Hogarthland sir?”
“Yes Hogarthland. You remember, that place we discovered with lots of people in togas and that person called the Czar that we met”
“That was Greece sir.” Jenkins paused, “and I think he was the Caesar”
“Nonsense:” Hogarth boomed, “I discovered the demned place, so I get to name it after meself”
“No sir” Jenkins corrected patiently, “to discover a place you have to be the first one there sir. Greece is the culture capital of the known world sir. Everyone knows about it”
“Really?” Hogarth opened the box of cigars on his desk and picked one out, taking great care not to set fire to his beard, “Demned shame if you ask me: I was going to name one of the islands after you Colinberry”
“It’s Jenkins sir,” Jenkins reminded, “and it’s very fine of you to offer, but I think you’ll find that all the islands are already named”
“Really? Even the one with the swimming pool?”
“Especially the one with the swimming pool sir” Jenkins paused, as if looking for an escape route from the conversation, his skin beginning to show the result of stress, “Would you like me to tell you when we DO discover somewhere knew sir?”
“Yes I think so” Hogarth paused as he sucked thoughtfully on his cigar, “but not one with too much sand: can’t stand the desert Jenkins”
“No sir” Jenkins agreed, “Anything else sir?”
“Hogarth nodded, “Fetch me another bottle of brandy from the cargo hold would you Jenkins, I’m just about bally ready to die of thirst”
Or the endless bus journeys that I now have to face and my joy that cycling season is soon approaching, or my trip to London to sell some old videos
Or the upcoming gig...
But time had smacked me around the head until i am truly dizzy and so i find myself having to push these things aside to bring you my regular entry to the fun:
As some of you will already know the excellent Raven has been experiencing computer problems as of late, but still managed to put some words up for useage
Every week she sets a total of 15 words which can be used for a mini (5), main (10) or massiv (15) challenge and you have to write a story encorporating those words
This week's 10-word challenge: culture, sheep, skin, mentally, box, desert, several people, church, Greece, thirst,
The mini challenge: swimming pool, cargo, czar, focus, fine
As with last week we re-join the crew of the HMS Frightfully Sorry as they splice their mainsails, heave ho all the me harties they can manage and generally fail to make any progress in...
Four Sheets To The Wind
The door of the Captain’s cabin opened slowly. Captain Hogarth put down the pickled Sheep and picked a piece of mutton out of his beard
“Ah Colinberry! Excellent to see you!”
First Mate Jenkins sighed and pushed the door a little wider. What was it about Sunday afternoons that the Captain found so hard to cope with? Perhaps it was the four hour church service in which Pastor Glennig had preached about shipwrecks until several people had seen their breakfast for the second time that day, or perhaps it was the side-effects of all that salt water, but the Captain always seemed to be mentally in a different place to everyone else
“It’s Jenkins sir” the First Mate corrected.
“So it is!” boomed Hogarth, “Come in Jenkins and tell me again how long it is until we return to Hogarthland?”
This was a new one to the First Mate, who frowned and tried to focus on anything that had happened recently that his Captain could be referring to, “Hogarthland sir?”
“Yes Hogarthland. You remember, that place we discovered with lots of people in togas and that person called the Czar that we met”
“That was Greece sir.” Jenkins paused, “and I think he was the Caesar”
“Nonsense:” Hogarth boomed, “I discovered the demned place, so I get to name it after meself”
“No sir” Jenkins corrected patiently, “to discover a place you have to be the first one there sir. Greece is the culture capital of the known world sir. Everyone knows about it”
“Really?” Hogarth opened the box of cigars on his desk and picked one out, taking great care not to set fire to his beard, “Demned shame if you ask me: I was going to name one of the islands after you Colinberry”
“It’s Jenkins sir,” Jenkins reminded, “and it’s very fine of you to offer, but I think you’ll find that all the islands are already named”
“Really? Even the one with the swimming pool?”
“Especially the one with the swimming pool sir” Jenkins paused, as if looking for an escape route from the conversation, his skin beginning to show the result of stress, “Would you like me to tell you when we DO discover somewhere knew sir?”
“Yes I think so” Hogarth paused as he sucked thoughtfully on his cigar, “but not one with too much sand: can’t stand the desert Jenkins”
“No sir” Jenkins agreed, “Anything else sir?”
“Hogarth nodded, “Fetch me another bottle of brandy from the cargo hold would you Jenkins, I’m just about bally ready to die of thirst”
Monday, 15 March 2010
TFE's Monday Poem
As many of you will know by now Total Feckin Eejit (People's Republic Of Eejit) is currently campaigning for Greatest Blog Ever (and who am i to dispute this?) so it seems only fair to help TFE's claim by taking part in the poetry bus competition this week.
This week the poem had to start with:
"She was wearing Stella McCartney
I was drinking Stella Artois" - or words thereabouts
Things I Think About On The Bus
I was drinking in Stella McCartney
Whilst wearing my Stella Artois
As I leered at her on the telly
And admired her from afar
Then i leaned over to the landlord
Said "does she ever come to this bar?"
He just laughed and shook his head
"You've more chance with Ringo Starr"
This week the poem had to start with:
"She was wearing Stella McCartney
I was drinking Stella Artois" - or words thereabouts
Things I Think About On The Bus
I was drinking in Stella McCartney
Whilst wearing my Stella Artois
As I leered at her on the telly
And admired her from afar
Then i leaned over to the landlord
Said "does she ever come to this bar?"
He just laughed and shook his head
"You've more chance with Ringo Starr"
Friday, 12 March 2010
Wordzzle 102
Sorry to say that the mightly word-warrier Raven has been felled this week by computer problems, so in the spirit of solidarity to the competition we here at DFTPs are posting our entry anyway.
For those of you who don't know - Raven sets two sets of words, a 10 word selection and a 5 word selection - these can either be used individually as a main and minor, or combined for a mega 15 - but once you endeavor to create a story you must include each word, or phrase, in the work at least once.
Words for this week's 10-word challenge are: slimy, Pluto, champing at the bit, peaceful, chapter, upright, depression, starfish, matches, channel changer
For the mini: liver spots, pesticide, plaid, unpredictable, upsetting the apple cart
Following on from my entirely hypothetical ship of the other week I thought it would be interesting to create another fictional ship, one which I may well return to if it proves popular:
so join with me now as we wrestle with the rollocks and fondle the Brass Monkeys as we experience the increasingly odd adventures of the HMS Frightfully Sorry and her exasperated crew in...
Four Sheets To The Wind
There was a polite knock on the Captain’s door, followed by a moment of respectful silence before the door squeaked open. First Mate Jenkins peered through the gap, trying to gauge the mood of the Captain. Ever since they had left Scunthorpe six months ago the usually chipper head of the ship had been subject to deep bouts of depression.
Today Captain Hogarth seemed to be back to his usual self. He was wearing his best plaid and was sitting upright in his chair peering closely at his book. He held up a hand and continued to read for a few more moments, before finally slipping the bookmark into place and looking up
“Ah Chiswick, good to see you old chap” he began with his usual booming tones, “sorry to keep you waiting, but had to finish my chapter first”
“It’s Jenkins sir” Jenkins corrected with the tired air of a man who has had the same conversation every day for the last six months
“Really?” Hogarth said, furrowing his brow without ever feeling the need for any form of gardening implement, “Are you sure?”
“Fairly sure” Jenkins replied, adapting his patented peaceful tone of voice
“Well what happened to Chiswick then?”
“Went overboard sir, got caught in the Baltics by a starfish”
Captain Hogarth screwed up his eyes and reached for his number four pipe and matches, “Demned shame, what?” he said eventually, “Slimy buggers, those Starfish”
“Indeed sir” Jenkins paused for a few extra seconds to allow his Captain’s brains to safely return from their trip to Pluto, and then cleared his throat, “Sir?”
“Hmmm?” Hogarth’s eyes cleared as it suddenly dawned on him that there might be some other purpose to his First Mate’s visit other than to re-confirm his own identity, “oh yes: I expect you’re just champing at the bit to tell me whatever piece of news you have, what?
“Yes Sir,” Jenkins confirmed, wondering how best to break the news, “It’s Bernard sir”
“Bernard?” Hogarth thought for a second, trying to cross check his mind with whatever passed for the channel changer for his brain, “Ah yes! Bernard! Excellent fellow: worth his weight in ten other men. What about him?”
“He’s a girl, sir”
“A Gel?” Hogarth questioned, “are you sure?”
“Quite sure, sir”
“But he’s got a beard Jenkins”
“I know sir” Jenkins paused, aware that this was not the worst of the news, “fooled a lot of us with that one she did sir. It was only when we found out that she was pregnant that we realised where we’d gone wrong”
“Pregnant! Pregnant you say?” Hogarth bellowed, “Well we can’t be having with that: doesn’t that lead towards liver spots Jenkins?”
“Generally speaking sir” Jenkins corrected, “it is believed to lead to babies sir” he paused to see if this was sinking in,
“Not liver spots then?”
The captain harrumphed in disgust, “Well we can’t be allowing that Jenkins, by jove not!” he decided, “can’t have a baby stomping around the place and upsetting the apple cart by luring us all towards rocks”
Jenkins thought for a second, “That’s Psirens, sir” he replied eventually, “not babies”
Hogarth shook his head, “Well I don’t know Jenkins, better have the pesticide ready just incase, unpredictable buggers these babies”
Jenkins nodded and prepared to leave, “Yes sir, consider it done sir” he paused, “any news for the crew this week sir?”
Hogarth shook his head again, “No, no: you just carry on”
“Right you are sir”
“And Jenkins?”
The first mate paused and looked back over his shoulder, aware that he was only a quick sprint from safety, “Yes sir?”
“Keep me informed on this baby thing, what?” Hogarth ordered, “Wouldn’t want one of those demned baby things creeping up on me and eating me in the night”
“No sir” Jenkins replied with barely any trace of stress in his voice, “definitely not sir”
For those of you who don't know - Raven sets two sets of words, a 10 word selection and a 5 word selection - these can either be used individually as a main and minor, or combined for a mega 15 - but once you endeavor to create a story you must include each word, or phrase, in the work at least once.
Words for this week's 10-word challenge are: slimy, Pluto, champing at the bit, peaceful, chapter, upright, depression, starfish, matches, channel changer
For the mini: liver spots, pesticide, plaid, unpredictable, upsetting the apple cart
Following on from my entirely hypothetical ship of the other week I thought it would be interesting to create another fictional ship, one which I may well return to if it proves popular:
so join with me now as we wrestle with the rollocks and fondle the Brass Monkeys as we experience the increasingly odd adventures of the HMS Frightfully Sorry and her exasperated crew in...
Four Sheets To The Wind
There was a polite knock on the Captain’s door, followed by a moment of respectful silence before the door squeaked open. First Mate Jenkins peered through the gap, trying to gauge the mood of the Captain. Ever since they had left Scunthorpe six months ago the usually chipper head of the ship had been subject to deep bouts of depression.
Today Captain Hogarth seemed to be back to his usual self. He was wearing his best plaid and was sitting upright in his chair peering closely at his book. He held up a hand and continued to read for a few more moments, before finally slipping the bookmark into place and looking up
“Ah Chiswick, good to see you old chap” he began with his usual booming tones, “sorry to keep you waiting, but had to finish my chapter first”
“It’s Jenkins sir” Jenkins corrected with the tired air of a man who has had the same conversation every day for the last six months
“Really?” Hogarth said, furrowing his brow without ever feeling the need for any form of gardening implement, “Are you sure?”
“Fairly sure” Jenkins replied, adapting his patented peaceful tone of voice
“Well what happened to Chiswick then?”
“Went overboard sir, got caught in the Baltics by a starfish”
Captain Hogarth screwed up his eyes and reached for his number four pipe and matches, “Demned shame, what?” he said eventually, “Slimy buggers, those Starfish”
“Indeed sir” Jenkins paused for a few extra seconds to allow his Captain’s brains to safely return from their trip to Pluto, and then cleared his throat, “Sir?”
“Hmmm?” Hogarth’s eyes cleared as it suddenly dawned on him that there might be some other purpose to his First Mate’s visit other than to re-confirm his own identity, “oh yes: I expect you’re just champing at the bit to tell me whatever piece of news you have, what?
“Yes Sir,” Jenkins confirmed, wondering how best to break the news, “It’s Bernard sir”
“Bernard?” Hogarth thought for a second, trying to cross check his mind with whatever passed for the channel changer for his brain, “Ah yes! Bernard! Excellent fellow: worth his weight in ten other men. What about him?”
“He’s a girl, sir”
“A Gel?” Hogarth questioned, “are you sure?”
“Quite sure, sir”
“But he’s got a beard Jenkins”
“I know sir” Jenkins paused, aware that this was not the worst of the news, “fooled a lot of us with that one she did sir. It was only when we found out that she was pregnant that we realised where we’d gone wrong”
“Pregnant! Pregnant you say?” Hogarth bellowed, “Well we can’t be having with that: doesn’t that lead towards liver spots Jenkins?”
“Generally speaking sir” Jenkins corrected, “it is believed to lead to babies sir” he paused to see if this was sinking in,
“Not liver spots then?”
The captain harrumphed in disgust, “Well we can’t be allowing that Jenkins, by jove not!” he decided, “can’t have a baby stomping around the place and upsetting the apple cart by luring us all towards rocks”
Jenkins thought for a second, “That’s Psirens, sir” he replied eventually, “not babies”
Hogarth shook his head, “Well I don’t know Jenkins, better have the pesticide ready just incase, unpredictable buggers these babies”
Jenkins nodded and prepared to leave, “Yes sir, consider it done sir” he paused, “any news for the crew this week sir?”
Hogarth shook his head again, “No, no: you just carry on”
“Right you are sir”
“And Jenkins?”
The first mate paused and looked back over his shoulder, aware that he was only a quick sprint from safety, “Yes sir?”
“Keep me informed on this baby thing, what?” Hogarth ordered, “Wouldn’t want one of those demned baby things creeping up on me and eating me in the night”
“No sir” Jenkins replied with barely any trace of stress in his voice, “definitely not sir”
Sunday, 7 March 2010
TFE's Poetry Bus: Everybodies Gotta Have A Train Song...
OK, so the bus has left us all waiting at the station this week and its time to bring in a few other influences for the journey, hence the title which a certain Irish group will probably recognise - and because they're so fecking brilliant I've posted a video of the song of the same name below (hope you don't mind guys):
Moving on now I was in too minds as to whether to post my own effort, because I wrote these lyrics the other day and, frankly, I'm not entirely pleased with them. It's a kinda Bob Dylany/Travelling Wilbury kinda thing with much work needed on the lyrics, but here goes anyway:
Back On The Train
Ch
I'm a cynical mind in an untamed world
But we're going for a ride, yeah me and my girl
Gonna shout, every victory, that I claim
When you see me coming you will know my name
Cos I've spent too long going slowly insane
Now it's time, to get back, on the train
Vs1
Though I had lost it for a while
But giving up, just ain't my style
So I'll jsut wait and play it cool
If you think I'm beaten you're the fool
Vs2
You can leave indescision, at the gate
My destiny's coming and I've fixed my date
I've made bad connections, down the line
But I've no more regrets, cos I ain't got time
AND FINALLY:
This is something I have to get off my chest before I throw my TV out of the window.
Things That Have Annoyed Me This Week: #1 - Constant Adverts For Disney's(R) Alice In Wonderland
I don't care
how much you've changed
the plot
It's not
Disneys
Fecking
ANYTHING!!!!!!
ok???
Moving on now I was in too minds as to whether to post my own effort, because I wrote these lyrics the other day and, frankly, I'm not entirely pleased with them. It's a kinda Bob Dylany/Travelling Wilbury kinda thing with much work needed on the lyrics, but here goes anyway:
Back On The Train
Ch
I'm a cynical mind in an untamed world
But we're going for a ride, yeah me and my girl
Gonna shout, every victory, that I claim
When you see me coming you will know my name
Cos I've spent too long going slowly insane
Now it's time, to get back, on the train
Vs1
Though I had lost it for a while
But giving up, just ain't my style
So I'll jsut wait and play it cool
If you think I'm beaten you're the fool
Vs2
You can leave indescision, at the gate
My destiny's coming and I've fixed my date
I've made bad connections, down the line
But I've no more regrets, cos I ain't got time
AND FINALLY:
This is something I have to get off my chest before I throw my TV out of the window.
Things That Have Annoyed Me This Week: #1 - Constant Adverts For Disney's(R) Alice In Wonderland
I don't care
how much you've changed
the plot
It's not
Disneys
Fecking
ANYTHING!!!!!!
ok???
Sunday, 28 February 2010
TFE's Monday Poem
Don't Talk To Me About Life...
Come home in darkness to an empty house
Take a moment to feed the cat
Stretch out and wait to change my mood
Wonder what the hell is the point
Come home in darkness to an empty cat
Take a moment to feed the mood
Stretch out and wait to change my point
Think that life can be shit
Come home in darkness to an empty mood
Take a moment to see the point
Stretch out and wait and change my shit
Switch on the TV and sigh
Come home in darkness to an empty point
Take a moment to feed this shit
Stretch out and wait to an elongated sigh
Feel a little better for a while
Come home in darkness to an empty house
Take a moment to feed the cat
Stretch out and wait to change my mood
Wonder what the hell is the point
Come home in darkness to an empty cat
Take a moment to feed the mood
Stretch out and wait to change my point
Think that life can be shit
Come home in darkness to an empty mood
Take a moment to see the point
Stretch out and wait and change my shit
Switch on the TV and sigh
Come home in darkness to an empty point
Take a moment to feed this shit
Stretch out and wait to an elongated sigh
Feel a little better for a while
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