Knock on

So things went from bad to worse
You might say they snow balled
I was rushing for a train
It was a quarter to six on a Tuesday
After a little rain
The steps down to the underpass
Were damp in that new feeling way
And busy commuters were emerging
and swarming up the stairs the other way

As I approached the entrance
A woman stepped in my way
She was old and frail, so I left her
On her way, thinking I may
Side step her, I maneouvered in that direction
My momentum carrying me like a truck
Just out beyond the filling station
I was fast but not fast enough
For a not so young buck
Had stood in my way
And began his encumbered traverse
Down that royal highway of stairs
One might say, he considered himself king
Of it for that day, a king stuck not in forward, but reverse

Now I must say
Before I go any further
That I consider myself fair
In most circumstances demanding faith
And patience in another's ability
To climb or descend, I take a deep breath
And breathe deep, an internal sigh
Feeling in the next life I maybe rewarded
For such virtuous self-sacrifice
However I had already been this paragon
Of uncommon common sense
Probably at least twice before that day
One on my way up from Lehel (or the Hell)
To translate
Another I can't remember now
And this third on the way down at Corvin Negyed (the Crow)
And each time, I stepped in tow behind
I trudged like one of the lost souls
In the inferno
But in this instance- seeing as I was in a rush for paradise -the pub
(Which I actually call an English lesson)
I thought I might skip the purgatory
Of existence
That is the downward resistance to flow
That equals following a very slow fellow

So ladies and gentlemen of the jury
I ask you this
Is it right that I should be condemned
When feeling the need not to extend
My sorrows, I borrowed a leaf from the rabbit
and hopped the queue?
I leap-frogged -metaphorically speaking
Went around my obstacle to freedom
Like any sensible person would
My only mistake was this
I brushed him as I passed
I cannot believe it even constituted a nudge
Did he budge - no way
But he reacted like he was hurt by my affray
Like some wounded animal he began to howl
Like some howling banshee down to hell's bowel

I like the good Christian, I did not wish to engage
You might say I fled, but I did not fight that day
One has a sense sometimes of the murderous intention of folk
I have no doubt that he was capable of all kinds
Of horrible things if he had me in his yoke
But witnessing before in the eighth district a fight
Of a maddened man getting out of his car to yell
In the face of a passer by
I had sensed this feeling of his injustice, his injured sense of pride
That is really his general nervousness encumbered
By an instinctual feeling to fight
Unfortunately my own instinct did not show up in a similar light
And I chose the way of survival - I chose the path of flight

However when two opposing instincts do not agree on their way
What follows is a pursuit down through a subway
And if you can imagine I am not that young myself
Though not that old either nor lacking in legs
To put some distance between me and this red faced elf
I could tell he was behind me, because of all the yelling
and I surely received some quizzical looks
From astonished commuters passing
But that is the trouble with rush hour
As I immediately found
That I came up to a long queue of people waiting to enter the underground

By the time I had entered the escalator
I could still hear my foe
Shouting Blue murder - hey you, hey you
Though in Hungarian I suppose
What did he expect that I would turn and apologize?
By the time I did that he would have hit me
Or spat more insults into my eyes

There are times when I would have stood and fought
Or at least calmly tried to put my position and what I thought
But let's face it I do not speak Hungarian
And I was not about to repeat an encounter
With an enraged and nervous barbarian

Now I reached the platform
And panicked I had no where to go
The train had left in the direction I needed
And kept coming did my foe
My only chance therefore lay in boarding another train
One in the opposite direction
And my thoughts were not in vain

So in the calmest manner possible
So as not to stick out in the crowd
I briskly walked through onlookers
Hoping my pursuer too slow
And that I would lose him somehow
It even entered my brain
To embark a few carriages down
For the last thing I wanted
Was to be trapped in a car with a mad cow

The upshot was I got off at Kliniak
Shaken and somewhat stirred
But unlike James Bond I had no Martini
And the comparison is quite absurd
Next I re-boarded a different train
Travelling in the right direction
So as to make sure I was not followed
By a mad Turk intent on his own correction

Later in the lesson I did have a drink
And it was not that it tasted bitter
But that it gave me time to think
Should I have had more courage and at least socked my foe?
He was an older man and I do not think that was the way to go
Was it my fault? I confess yes
I should have behaved with more decorum
And less rashness
But alas I was rushing
And that is the scourge of the modern age
And it shows how even an English man
can in a foreign country, behave as a knave

Easy Love

If you say that you need my love
What can I do but make it?
And if you say that I don't give enough
Then darling go on and take it
Oh make it, take it for goodness sake
Don't fake it

If you say that you've heard enough
That there's no more you can take of it
I can say that I learned of love
That summer by mistake of it
But its your love that I want above
All the others who partake of it
Oh make it take it for goodness sake
Don't fake it

They put you up on a pillar of love
Then like a tree they shake it
You fall down, lose your crown
On the low ground they break it
Oh make it, take it for goodness sake
Don't fake it

Make it, take it love's just a piece of cake
Ain't it?

Talk is Cheap

The clock is running low
and time is running out
We've got nowhere to go
And there's no need to scream and shout
So honey try to sleep
Because talk is cheap

There's a thousand reasons why
And a million stars in the sky
A country lane runs on mile after mile
Much like our love, I think and I have to smile
I love you too deep
But honey, talk is cheap

I've been walking in the land
Of the cold kiss
Almost blown my mind
On the chances that I've missed
But your love is one thing
I plan to keep
But honey, you know
Talk is cheap

Cold Iron

Cold Iron, cold iron
Cold iron in the ground

They make you in a furnace
pour you molten in the mould
wait for your skin to harden
For your body to turn cold

Stand you up on the plinth
A statue of iron man found
Then they make another on an island
An Iron woman they give a crown
Tell her to hold a torch in her hand

Liberty
Cold Iron, cold iron lady
Why is your freedom so hard?
You stand on your island
Believing the future you've had read in your cards
Cold Iron, cold Iron
Will you turn into something real
Come down off your pedestal of metal
Show this iron man the way that you feel

Girl On The Tram

I see you standing there, Girl on the tram

your legs like rails run into an unknown land

But you don’t even know who I am

Girl on the tram

We might be together in a fairy tale

We could swim with the dolphins

Or even ride a whale

But I am no merman

Girl on the tram

Now I have to admit that you don’t know me well

I could be the man from U.N.C.L.E. and you couldn’t tell

But I get the idea that we could still make a plan

Girl on the tram

Maybe we’ll have babies

Or buy a big old house

We’d inoculate the dog for rabies

And lay a trap for a rat or mouse

But that’s just a plan

Girl on the tram

Maybe you’re the niece of a king or queen

Maybe you don’t say exactly what you mean

But Girl on the tram

You’re the girl of my dream

Perhaps I forgot to mention a few lines back

But I’m actually an outlaw wanted down the track

So, you better know it now, that I’m a man on the lam

But it don’t matter anyhow, Girl on the tram

I guess we could have a good life together

You could raise the kids to be birds of a feather

And if it seems to stand

I can give you my hand

And we’ll run off together

Girl on the Tram

I guess I won’t make a bad husband

Maybe I’d drink or gamble

But its no different to any other outlaw man

Born to be a wanderer, born to ramble

Some day I’ll have to leave you

Because they’ll find out who I am

But we can hook up later when I’m out of trouble

Girl on the tram

Then I’ll straighten out and get back on the wagon

I’ll be you St George and slay the dragon

And you can be assured, that I’ve done battle and won

All my critics be damned, all but for you

Girl on the tram

Maybe we’ll go out to a fancy restaurant

You’ll tell me what you need

And I’ll give you what you want

I’m not saying for certain, just making an assertion

Girl on the tram

Now I think my stops approaching, so I better be quick

Its hard to begin broaching, and the subject doesn’t stick

Maybe you’ll be fed up with the way that I am

Girl on the tram

There’s only one stop remaining, and my heart begins to sink

Won’t you stop complaining about the amount that I drink!

Your father always told you, that you couldn’t trust a beatnik

So, I’ll maybe blame him for our moveable picnic

You can see who I am

Girl on the tram

Well I guess its time, I’ll be leaving

The doors are open, I wish there was more believing

On your side – if you’d only spoken,

Just let me know how you’re feeling

Or if I can explain

It’s about communication, again and again

But now I’ll say farewell

and leave you without pain

It might be in vain, but I can

Girl on the tram

Blog from the Bog

I am in a robot Armageddon
And the time traveller is dust
Its a case of man against steel
What you feel is real rust

What you make for a meal
Is grist to their mill
And they'll challenge your will
Provide a no deal
And implant a chip in your soul

And a robot is what?
Just a chip off the old block
Just chip on the shoulder of giants
Its one giant leap for an ant
But a drone bee is a giant step for a man

What can he swallow, what kind of pill
Can make him sleep for a thousand years
And wake up when its time to kill

And Time is killing man
But man is killing time
With his machines and devices
To serve all his vices
And even turn all his water to wine

What kind of veal can stake a claim to his calf
The meat lies on the road for the foxes
And upturned is the apple cart

How many apples have fallen before a law is made
To put Pandora's prizes back in their boxes
To turn the white beam into shade?

The dogs are howling at the moon
As the man returns to his home
Babies are crying for the womb
And the woman is sleeping alone

Man is creating his Eden
Down the street where the dog chews a bone
But who is loyal to his master
Will turn tail like an unwanted drone

Man is creating his Eden
In the bowels of a dying mother Earth
And she's spilled her guts, suffered all his cuts
From the moment that she gave birth

Some crone can read it in her entrails
Some drone will build a society of worth
But the hive mind that finds
All of human kind, can never buy back
The price of its curse

Cock and Bull Story

All the clocks have stopped
And the cardinals walk
Upon the court of the cock
And the Bull that talks
And we can't shut up the shop
Nor lock up the criminals who balk
At all the broken cups
That they drink from or tap with a fork

I thought you said you loved me
She said from behind the bars
But I was serving pastries
To pasty faced movie stars
And she was cleaning their apartments
And refilling their cars
As we talked of Hollywood departments
And walked down their boulevards

I thought you said you loved the silver screen display
That was better than make believe
Better than man made of clay
Even God appears there shifting behind the scenes
He's in the prison of the camera
That we capture and hold in our dreams

Jesus is failing as an extra,
he's been to two auditions
But the terminator director
Won't even cast him in an impossible mission
He's left kicking rocks in the parking lot
Collecting tips for parking actors' cars
Who once thought they'd seen him in a musical
Where he played some superstar

I faced into the distance,
And shook my fist at the storm
And said why must it end like this?
Oh lord I am tired of feeling so worn

And cursing the apocalypse
The Zombie actors come out on parade
They've heard there was a calypso line
For eclipsed actors who never get paid

And sure enough they all turned up
On set the very next day
They'd lost a lot of their make up
And their hair was turning grey

So they stepped back inside the prison
And the camera took off fifty years
They said now we look good by comparison
To the summation of all our fears

Suddenly from the distance a footballer turned up
Dribbling his ball, through all the holes
As if at the Ryder cup
Someone said its  Schumacher another it was Lewis Hamilton
But I knew for sure by his quick draw
That I was looking at Harrison ford
Jack Nicholson, took for advantage
A cake from the jaws of a lion
And shaking his mane, he said with some shame
That he wished he were Jenson Button

The flying ducks were caught out over the ninth hole
And eight weeks later, a great alligator
Was shot on the white House Lawn
A fishing he had been in Florida
A concertina kissed
The clouds they part, for those departed
On the rise of the steamy knoll

If anyone can control him
Perhaps his uncle should know
About all the conflagrations burning up in his soul
And if one artist, could talk to a skull
What would be said, from inside that head
And the reasons for the role call?

Similar if not for Schwarzenegger the whole
cast would have gone berserk
With unexpected losses, and time spent off work
And perhaps if their forefathers had known them
They would have signed a farewell to arms
But with the heroes going down to zero
Nobody is falling for their charms

And what if anything can be answered by
The legend of the gun-touting fool?
You've got to stick it to the man
Who made you in his image as his tool