Of ladders and dreams

 You reach the top

But you can't break through

So you get a job 

On the wrecking crew

Glass ceilings 

And waterfalls

All breaking up

When you swing your ball

You're climbing up

The ladder with the angels

Some are climbing down

With broken wings

We'll meet them on the ground

When the choir sings

Of heady stuff

Of being enough

Of what fire brings

Courage and love

Of human things

Of beggars and fools

And Heroes and kings

Morris-men

 Who are you to say what's right?

Morris man with your bells so bright

Jingle, jangle, tingle tangle

Me up in your music tonight

He was the son of a Morrisman

He danced all night to the band

And kissed the girls in the caravan

He was the son of a Morrisman

Don't sweet talk me pretty

Or sit on my kitty

I've been hitting the sticks

Since the age of Six

And I'll dance you to heaven

If you given me seven

Or give me five in a pat-a-cake jive

I'm the sweet talking son of a Morrisman

It's the bells and whistles

It's the great charade

Of the chardonnay 

And the grape parade

We're dancing today

Like it's the first of May

I'm 19th son of a Morrisman

My father's name was Morris

He drove a Morris minor

His father's name was Boris

He was Major then a miner

In the Russian steppes then the gulag

Then he did the goose step

In the jet lag rag

My great grandfather Morris

was a florist in the Dutch colonies

Not far from the forests of the Aborigines 

Where he danced with the originals

And learnt all the Abba signals

Beat his sticks upon the glass

windows of widows

A cruel magic

 He is gone, 

the magician Jonny Miller

It was his final trick

A disappearing act

Like he pulled a rabbit out a hat

But it's second hand news

It comes to me like a rumour does

Whispered

Gossip,

Shock

Most things appear and vanish

Like that

But she is the magician I know

On a sunny day she can make it snow

She is a keeper of secrets

In the sacred circle

It comes to her, easily

Like a hotline to God

To the Gods

I'm always praying

It's like a condition

Or my conditioning

She never does,

as I'm aware

And yet she is closer to

The holy crew

She just lays it bare 

on the table

Her cards

and wins the lot

Like a sweepstake

I have to take

 a back seat

 in the auditorium

Of her dreams

And mine

While she's on the stage 

she shines

But to me she shines more

when off it

She's got the magic

touch for sure

I'm off stage left

Looking to score

a draw

On her fiery breath

But the world is cruel

And fame is a test

And if you seek it

It may destroy

What soul you have

left

You saw yourself in half

And tie yourself in knots

All to feel the audience

Laugh

Or cry

Or cough

Or hold their breath

Or scream or shout 

Or cheer

And it will kill

You in the end

For there's magic

Over here

If you play with fire

You're bound to 

Get wounded

It's getting late

 It's getting late

Too late to care

It's getting late

And I want you there

But I can't hold a gun

and watch you stare

Me in the face

While I leave you bare

It's getting late

Too late to care

All the people in their houses

With a little hope

Watch as the wind blows in their blouses

Like a sail snapping rope

It's getting late and 

I don't know

How to change the cards

I show

I'm losing ground

It's stalemate

It's getting late

Too late to go

Can't keep up

 Walking with my bitches

bitches, bitches

Keeps giving me stitches

stitches, stitches

Cos they walk so fast

fast, fast

I can't hold up my britches

Britches, britches

My pants fall down

down, down

All over town

town, town

So I try and them pull up

up, up

But my bum it itches

itches, itches

I trip over my hoes

hoes, hoes

And over we goes

goes, goes

And we land in dem ditches

ditches, ditches

So now I don't walk with them bitches

bitches, bitches

But I work at the old people's home

home, home

Where they walk more slowly

slowly, slowly

Come and visit me homey,

homey, homey

5 in a row

 Bombs in west Bradley 

5 bombs

In a row

Molotov bread basket

Undertaker 

I was an undertaker 

He was an over taker

Who reached heaven first?

There was a speed limit on the stairway to heaven 

But an escalator down to hell

Treason , the reason of a tree. When arguing with a tree it's always a good idea to suggest it be treasonable and to stop barking orders at you. Do trees actually like to be weed on by dogs? They may just see as a bit of watering and quite like it, instead of getting mad. You can't assume all trees are untreasonable. 

A canny mason

 He was a canny mason

Very good with stone

He even carved a basin

For my very home

 I knew him as a greyson

But he soon showed other tones

He wasn't just in shades of grey

But black and white and brown

Oh he was a canny mason

And built all the buildings in town

Carved and hewn the face on

Every facade of regal crown

Mermaids on the balustrades

Lions on the coronet

Ask him not of gunpowder plots

He'll likely hew you from the neck down

But buy him a sack of wine

Let him weigh the stone in his palm

He'll tell where and how to place it in

The wall 

Then they'll all fall down