Goal Keeper

 The ballad 

Of the Shepton Goal keeper

He thought he'd be a goalie

But he ended a cell sleeper

Deeper undercover

Of the setting sun

You see he's black and white

As a holy nun

Goal keeper

Goal keeper

Now where do you lie

Down in the flowers

Where the sick go to die

Or up in the rafters

With the booms and the bats

Yard bird singing softly

Like a sweet alley cat

Goal keeper Goal keeper

Ring the half time bell

For whom the bell tolls

You know of so well

Bring out your guards

And shuffle your suns

Goal Keeper, goal keeper

So hard when the new day's begun

Shoot straight my pretty

And aim for the heart

I'm in front of the squad

Let the firing start

I open my mouth

But my tongue hangs down

Goal keeper

For England

For King and for Crown

Sing softly my pretty

Let the new day come

The trees whisper briskly

Of change

The murmurs

Of starlings

The circling buzzards

All over the prison walls

With the bandits of hazard

gaol keeper

 He was out on the wing he was in the midfield

He walked the square mile

His legs he did feel

Open air and the blue tent

The blue tent of sky

Was his pitch as he hitched

Another prison lullaby

Sleep softly sleep quiet

Behind

Your hard Iron bars

See wisdom in miles

As the jailed bird jars

Sing like a Canary inside of your cage

Smell gas Or the oven

Or the times of our age

Where is he, how is it?

And where does it come from?

On the Western front

Front, under the shadow of a gun

A cannon rings out

In the new days sun

But sing softly Canary

For we've only just begun

Goal keeper, gaol keeper

Between the posts

Hold your line

Don't let it cross

The shot of Holy Ghost

For if he comes in

He'll surely

Kick down the gates of hell

And let all those lost souls

Right out of their cells

Gaol Keeper

Gaol keeper

Now where is your soul?

In the dungeons

Or is it deeper

Right down in hell

Hold the ball that you've caught

And don't let it fall

To the ground

Kick it hard

And back over the wall

They are playing

They are playing somewhere outside

The match whistle blows

And it's a game of two sides

The voices they yell

But of course you have heard

With your eyes like a buzzard

And Your ears like a jail bird

Gaol keeper, gaol keeper

The disease of greed

 There is a disease and it rises in the tide

And it coughs in the nation

And is spread by the pride

The gods are taking over

And the wild wind blows

In the railway sleepers 

It lies in the throes

It seeps in the heart

From your head to your toes

It gets in your blood

Before you even knows

It's the enemy of love

It's a canker on the rose

Its like the nectar of Gods

And people are the bees

But if it gets in your blood

Then it will make you bleed

Because you've stood on it where you trod

It's the disease of greed

And they push and they shove 

From Suffolk to Greece

They will push out love

It'll wage war in place of peace

And as everyone knows

Wickedness never will cease

You've got it and it shows

The disease of greed

It shows in your face

Your smiles they crease

The little slip of a dove

Carrion crows of unease

They shelter above

In the crown of the trees

But you've got nowhere to go

When you've got

The disease of greed

When you're caught between desire

And the path of the priest

It's like being trapped between

The Devil and the deep blue sea

Keep well your garden

And hoe down the weed

Before its grip starts to harden

In the disease of greed

The horse shoes and the scarlet paint

 oh the horse shoes

And the scarlet paint

All these things are so worn out

And blood ties 

In blood shot eyes

Oh the horse shoes

And the scarlet paint

What makes you live a life without taint

The horse shoes and the scarlet paint

What takes you from sinner to saint

The horse shoes and the scarlet paint

I walk and I want to shout

All these things I have no doubt

For when I was a child

Then I played in the gravel

With the horse shoes

And the judges gavel

Oh the horseshoes and the scarlet paint.

Queen

 If the Queen was my mum

As if I cared or could come

To her dying bed

And pay my last respects

Or comfort her there

If I could show her a picture of how she used to be

And the leaves turn in a circle

In the the car park

And the noise of the traffic

Passing cars

And the Queen has

Died

But 

Son of a dream

 You see it through to the end

You, do, oh you do my friend

Because the ache runs deep

Like the oak trees tap

Which speaks and seeps

And strange how sleep comes not to those who

Wait

But the deaf and dumb of fickle fate

And it is dawn, ticking on the lawn

The sun dial steals a smile

and peek at the clouds

But rain never comes

And the yellow grass hums

And the fathers and babies and mums

Succumb to the heat

Like a Viking invader

raping and pillaging our stores

Of energy

Drinking your water

Vampire fangs

Sucking on the pink flesh of man

A humour hangs

And arrow falls

The lap wing sung

Upon the wall

And out in dried up reed beds

The lonely moor hens rest their heads

Dying or living in chorus

So shall we because we are all connected

On some level I believe

Sleepless in Seattle New York

Or Milton Keynes

It's all the same foot to the metal

It's just the way I walk

Don't block the sun,

Or block the stream

Don't sing what's sung

Or hung what's been

The mother tongue

Is your only Queen

Do what she says son of a dream

Come and gone all unseen

Here comes the Gazprom man

 Gazprom

He was an employee from Gazprom

Arnold Tarkovskj was his name

He held on tight to his dream of flight

But always was swimming up stream

He travelled day and night down the gas line

All the way from Moscow to Kazakhstan

Then he went west into Europe

Ah here comes the the Gazprom man

Come to deliver their Gas to us they say

But surely we have no way of knowing

Their plan

Increase the price it or decrease the flow

Only the GazProm man can really know

Love on the rocks

 I love you, love, love you

Bishop's rock

And way below the ocean where the fishes swamp and swan about

Oh shoe, shoe, shout

Kelis, Kent, and Cunt

No

Clam juice

Prunes and perfect pout 

The trout, true, true

Barney Mc Grew and What a shrew

Shew away the lout

What a louse

Losing his way in the pestilent field of pesticides

And pests

Cross pollinate vests of 

Stripy bees

Borrowing keys to Maiden's houses

And Yet

Yet

I see the swallows wind and wander

Like forgotten star sin wonder

Of such trite bellowed up

Platitudes of Science

That mean nothing to me

I am holding on too tight

She said it

I know

it

Seriously grave matter

 They nearly put me in my grave

I was an archaeologist working in Italy

On an ancient burial ground

The sky turned black

And I was on my back

Just another piece of lost and found

Searching for a body

Anybody down there

Shake my hand

The weather's grand

Living without a care

Dying to get out tonight

You can't go out when you're dead

Looking for some kind of light

Trying to straighten out my head

I feel a poem coming on

 The wind was blowing strong

The cards were on the table

She had a face so long

I thought a horse was in the stable

But then her voice spoke

And it bolted out the door

And I don't want to hear

Her ringing words no more

Oh I feel a poem coming on 

Don't you listen to the slap

The steer pikes are following

Their wraps

The blood that I have given though never was it given

Oh I feel a poem coming on

I'm gonna take my axe 

And cut down the stiles

It is an unfortunate

Tax but it has been gone for a while

And though the people flax

And though the keys

Invention

 A mobile phone piano

pedal operation mobile phone app

Invention 1

 A packaging material made out of potatoes instead of plastic

Way up on the wall

 Way up on the wall

Way up on the wall

I see you hanging there

God, God of all

Way up on the wall

Way up on the wall

I see the devil fighting

With St George or Paul

way up on the wall

Somewhere over there

Somewhere over there

Away from fear

But you bring it near

It is too close to call

He died for our sins

He died for our sins

But sins or not

It's getting hot

Underneath the skin

Way up on the wall

Way up on the wall

The stations of

The holy cross

Walking past the holy

Ghost

Way up on the Wall

And in the midst of life

We are sometimes lost

Sometimes found

Like a pound on the ground

But we can't count the cost

Way up on the wall

I'm waiting for the fall

Always waiting for the fall

When the curtain comes down

The king loses his crown

Way up on the wall

Way up on the wall

In the Church of 

Peter and Paul

Hanging there like a pear

Waiting for the apple to fall

Ever East

 Ever East, they kept extolling

The virtues of the Northern trolling

Like a pack of hungry wolves

Baying at the bar room brawls

And laying out their cousins flat

With the guard room mower

And the Frenchman's cat

But I see no ships said the sailor

Who spied and spied with his eye

But none could back up the failure

To launch or the success to fall

As a moon rocket or a thunder ball

And choking on the second chance balloon

That coughed up from the song of stomach Hume's

And looms of lice

And virtues paid for in paradise

We sequestered the lion to pull Daniel Through

The eye of the needle

And the Camel's pill

That once swallowed could

Yet be sniffed at

Though really the steam roller

Kept running him flat

And coughing

Oh the corners breached

Just the coffin sound that screeched

Like a howling bird of flight

Unfurled like a flag so bright

And reached into the great unknown

That was America then

When I was young

And wished for it again to be

Home of the brave and land of the free

Three blind mice

 You see he plays his part

Like an Eagle in a cage

Never knowing who to call on in his

Times of rage

And she the sun shone on

All through the plotted page

Just a story or a song

Just a triangle of age

How can she compass

The truth is in the Spire

And the Church stands there

As a badger in a choir

Singing to the underground

Of worms, and grubs and flowers

Whose roots have all been eaten

But They still love the sun's powers

Oh she waged a war across the Martian stage

And caterwauled her fairy dust

With the backgammon

And she visited the house

Of the three blind mice

Now none of them could see the world

But they all could tell the future

But the tales they told

Could never be foretold

Except of course by the Butcher

And so he cut off their tails and kept them hanging

So around and around their heads went banging

And they ended up in St Margret's hostel

Then they ended up in Bristol

And they started a band called Three blind mice

Until one was shot with a pistol

It was a harvest mouse with a grenade launcher

And he stayed the night in a cannibal hotel

He rang for room service then wouldn't you tell

Who turned up was the Butcher

He held three cards in his hand

And asked the mouse to take his chance

And so he did and the shot rang out

And the house of cards it fell down flat

With the King of Diamonds and Queen of spades

Head down in the concrete of the lamp shades

That kept on flickering on and off

And the harvester took what he could of the soft

Cheese that melted over the hares, and the dogs

Howled out in the Welsh rarebit valleys

But no Prince could be seen

Only the head of the poor old Queen

That rolled down the hill

Back to Jack and Jill

Who held the Ace of Hearts as bill and fare

For their journey

And broken crown

But who always knew

Were the three blind mice

Oh they ran and they ran

But could not escape

No they saw their future

But still had to meet their fate

Little cottage by the sea

 The windows to the sea

The sea of opportunity

The seagulls

Flying free

And you and me

For Eternity

In that little cottage

By the sea

In that little cottage by the sea

Where we can look out into the waves

Waves in the windows

And fish jumping free

White hats of the sailors

Bobbing to meet me

In that little cottage by the sea

Sea cliffs so mellow

Bellow and breeze

Fresh wind of fellow

Fish salty ease

Me too

 You who let sleeping dogs lie

And choo, choo the poo poo train

You who mew upon the morrow

Who sew up and borrow 

All things blue from weddings

Where you weed out the sorrow

And string it up on washing lines

Like the verse of the hearse

Or laugh at funerals

Or entice the Gods of war

To run amuck through the graveyard

Of second chances, 

You must blow like the wind through the branches

Of the Elder and the Yew

Yew who, like the owl, wearing a scowl

And a cowl ready to howl at the bowels

Of the Earth when they open up your plot

And find you forgot to love the things you got

Or you gave away what was given you

You owl ghost of the night post

Squawking and calling You who

Twit twa woo, twit twoo, you who?

Me too.

I hold counsel with the friends of dwarves

And shadows under shelves of course

I carve up the lion's share and give away kingdoms

To Unknown warriors, and Unborn youth

To inherit the flesh and tumble

Yet nothing can flash and stumble

Like lightning on wounded knee

Or stills of scenes of tragedy

That play out here home or abroad

I must leave now before I get bored

Dirty Street

 Take me to the mountain

Take me apart

Like the rock may I never break

My heart

Take me to the mountain

Sweeping

Up on dirty street can be a 

Hard place to beat

Meeting crowds and passing feet

All walking down Dirty Street

I wish that I 

Didn't live here

Wish I didn't have this job

This town is getting me down

To the point where I nearly sob

On Dirty Street

In rainy town

Where the pigeons keep

Flyin around

And the seagulls beak speaks

A harsh sound

On Dirty Street in Shepton Town

I don't know if I'll ever get clear

It's gonna take a lot of running

To get out of here

Because the cops pull you over and 

Look at you queer

On Dirty Street

You've got something to fear

On Dirty Street

I'm cleaning up my act

I'm gonna get myself together

And file all my facts

And put all my ducks

Out in a nice neat row

On Dirty Street

With the bright rainbow

I hear her voice

 I hear her voice

In my day between the sheets

That blow in the breeze

As I lie in bed asleep

There is a pain that doesn't ease

I hear her voice when I am going

Down the path

And into the deep

And I wonder will I ever see her

Is she gone forever from the watch I keep

I hear her voice

Across the waves

Across the waves of the sea

And as I'm standing on the cliff tops

I hear her voice when I am free

Paul St Community Hall

 The Paul Street community hall

There he goes riding 

Down from Bristol town

Across the Mendip hills

John Wesley

Riding like a fire fly

Alive with zeal and skill

Burning, burning passion

Driven convicted will

Build up all my churches

Bring the men to church

Lead the congregation

Through the slump and lurch

Out of heavy industry

Out with coal and oil

Give them some salvation

Which is worthy of their toil

Lift their spirits in the hall

Of the Methodist

Reciting in the circle

Hear the cheers go round

Circus shorts

 The circus came to town

The ringmaster and clown

Not pulling any punches

Pulling lots of hair

Pulling over drivers

Screw drivers and survivors

And Pirates are walking around

With performing bears

She held a tiger in her hands

And camera in her pocket

Little miss Lucky locket

Forming figures

From the statues of dancers

Standing like a straight up and down

Bottle of Champagne

Bursting in bubbles

Walking in vain along the tight rope of years

Like hamsters in cages they rolled

Turning mechanical crane

Running round in circles

In the circus of the years

She is tied up and let down

Always the pull if you're a twin

Of the invisible string

The almost shared placenta

The picture of the womb

The acrobat and the firm believer

In the miracle room

Painting pictures on the ceiling

Of Adam touching God

And the trapeze artist

and aerialist are reaching

Ever reaching to hold the horse shoe

Shod

And in between the tug of war

Over the fair share of good luck

She picked up the horse shoe

And the elephant trod

And up and down and all over the town

In the arms of the clown

And the Ringmaster pursued them

With his crown of thorns

And bleeding stigmata palms

All the way through the lavender farms

And shook them down

And the bees shot out

The bees buzzed out

The way I see it

 The way I see it

That's just the way I see it

You could be down on your luck and blue

But if that's the worst thing that's coming to you

You're pretty lucky

That's the way I see it

You could be fighting a war

That means nothing to you

But instead you're home and dry

Scot free I'm sure

At least that's the way I see it

Blindman

 Feel like a blind man

Lost in confusion and fear

I keep moving around 

But no one comes near

I'm on foreign ground

And the rules are not clear

Won't somebody tell me

How to get the hell out of here?

Lost and found on the merry-go-round

For another year

Shepton Mallet Prison

 Prison is a prisoner now of the town

It has been snared caught out by time

Kept preserved like a jar for its spirit

Of suffering, for tourists macabre sense

Of right and wrong, mistrusting themselves

Tempting themselves

To touch a darkness, they are afraid, yet thrilled by

Psychodramas played out

Within four walls

But what happened to them?

The ghosts, sure some died there

Were executed

For others it was their home

They did their time moved on

They are outside now

Trusting in the saving power of justice

And the reforming power of incarceration

The negation, the absence of life

Where liberty is a privilege not a right

Where is the prison? The town, the society

In which they do not fit

Are they locked up to keep them away,

Or to keep us away from them?

What is a wall, but an osmotic barrier

Through which they can still see

yet keep the time more preciously

Every hour can seem like a day

To try to make it work, make time pay

Learn a skill, learn to read or write

Learn the value of life

It is a school, in some way the hardest lesson

Was it a blessing?

Was it a fate worse than death?

A social death surely

The comedy of it all

 It could always be worse

That's just the luck of the draw

It's the roll of the hearse

As it pulls up at your door

Ironic of course

But who says comedy is poor

Rich as a beggar in a grave by the shore

Lay me down in the sand

I don't want anymore

I'm too dog tired to stand

And I hurt to my core

Give me a leg up or lend me a hand

I'm run out of egg cups

And my soldier understands

You can't be a saint if you aint

You can't be sinner and live on paint thinner

Just get fat on the wages of a cat

effle tower

 Oh see the rocks from the high ups fall

They've climbed so high above it all

They toss down stones like they're the gods

If the shoe were on the other foot

Would they know how they've been shod?

For do we walk in the shoes we've been given since birth/

Is there only one path to tread on this fine earth?

From cradle to the grave, you must know what life is worth

Don't spare the gravy on the main course

For you may be left with only sloppy seconds

You never know, where your next meal is coming from

And you cannot be complacent without a silver spoon

Though you can try to eat the star dust that falls from the moon

You'll be hungry as well so take a side door out

If you can't win at the system, you must try to shout

And if playing and yelling doesn't get you anywhere

They you better believe you must escape the dragon's lair

Still there is more to it than that

Why deny the obvious fact

That some will follow rule and command

Do the bidding of the high ups

And as in a chain, They will pull themselves up

Hand over hand until they're at the top

And then....

Body lines

 Did you eye it, or did you leg it?

And was it legit, when you elbowed in

You may shoulder the blame

I can't believe you have the gall

To look at me at all

Not with all that spleen of shame

And why did you knee him in the balls

I'm sure it took some of them

Could you not have used your loaf

And headed him instead

It was me who footed the bill Fred

Was it you who fingered me to the cops

Or Pops, were you top of the tree crops

Missing the missiles, miles from home

Homing in like a pigeon, to the only

Loving garden gnome

Who stands awaiting Satan to turn up with Adam's bone

But yes I said to Saddam, it was like a bullet to the brain

Village fete

 You see them at the village fete

So long so long

and old gestate

The blooming maggots of the apple

The grooming faggots in the chapel

The dial up a cele-braty singer

The bells of the church tower ringers

Tiling the bats and cats from hell

Upon the cob webbed windows

Of lives Turned pell-mell

And yellow roll the olives

In the lady's cocktail

As she shakes her maracas

at the sailors who set sail

And cast away the wigs

of the bald and riddled with disease

And try to pull out their thumb

From the plumb of youth with ease

But the dam is always bursting

And the priest is on his knees

And the canal dogs are thirsting

For another lonely tramp to seize

I came and saw the village that seemed

To me such rot

Of all we had before

Of all that once was hot

But now

Cold meat and mutton

Are served upon the plate

And only rabbits made of cotton

Can lift a smile of late

I seem to see the sky fall down

I seem to see the sunset frown

But whether blue or whether brown

I cannot tell, or it is all too late

Anglo traders

 Anglo traders, were they Saxons

Or Viking invaders

Crusaders, or raiders of the loot

This block is sailing out the boot

Car lot, parking lot

Lancelot

Sling shot

David and Goliath dream

Fire starters in the stream

Anglo traders

Whaling cream

Brill it over the oily sheen

Ready with deals

Of the Windows clean,

Smart panel nailers

Hobs and washing machines

Stoves, loaves and everything between

This Harrods of Shepton

Suffers no gleam

It is not lacking in lustre

Nor lusting for a duster

Hustling for a hustler

Busy hustle bustle muscling in

It is a statement surely

Industrial pride

Giant survivor

Of a world left behind

No these Anglo traders will not abide

They may vote for trump

But not for cyanide 

Windows beautiful

Light fantastic

Lager lager

Morris cocks and Clark

Haskins

Giant halls and mirrors

Status of the winners

I wish for a dream

Of Anglo, angles

And English Angels

And heroes of the barrel heart

They had a lot of bottle 

To start

And I have lost more

Than I have gained

As have these angel traders

In their  parade where they reigned

Rings of the waves

 There were heart songs

Singing on the radio

Mulled wine brewing by my elbow

Culled dogs lying in the window

And shores sleeves blended into shadows

There were sick sucks stunning in the Bilbo

Mill streams rubbing on the rainbow

Bring boat burbling in the dingoes

Howling at the heat of the shadows

Stinging in the knees and the Nando's

Trailing on the pea body and the big toes

Shooting Red Indians by the Cowboys

Hollering round the wigwams of Geronimo

Saint Suds with potatoes dud

Fortran  concluded yellows

Shoals of fish in the shallows

Synthesized wishes of the willows