The Jamie Oliver crew, topshop, or toploader moon

 Well the Jamie Oliver crew 

came to dance in the Art bank one day

Most you could say were smug Londoners

But don't let me influence you, hey

No some they were just the landlords or landladies

Owners of properties local

They all wore their beatnik bombers

Leather jackets

or beige jacket potatoes

Really they felt like they were young

When really they were all just middle-agers

They wore vans trainers and danced

Like they weren't just sad

wannabe teenagers

What really means it to be cool?

What when really you're insecure

So you put up a front

And pretend you're not a cunt

When you know

You're just late blooming

toploader

Family fortunes or Gods generation game

 Nice Demeter, Demeter nice

She was the mother of Persephone

persephone phone me, phone me perse,

 She was on the dog and bone

Every night to her underground colleagues

Oh they were the "Resistance" at first

Yes Hades raged against Zeus

But then he put on them a curse

And Hades was stuck under a roof

So Persephone his girlfriend went with him

Or you could say he kidnapped her

Kidnapping is a crime on a global scale

Much like Stealing a giant Panda bear

But they didn't have panda diplomacy

Not much at least in ancient Greece

Except it was left up to Pandora herself

To open her own box with her teeth

Now Prometheus he discovered fire

Or you could say he stole it from Zeus

But stealing from Kings is a crime

And gets you locked up which is proof

So Prometheus he was locked to a boulder

While ravens pecked out his liver as truth

Is extracted from a liar by torture

As nature is red in claw and in tooth

But torture is a crime internationally

Just take Guantanamo bay

If you mess with the empire

Such as stealing fire power

Then you better be sure you will pay

So we've learnt our methods from the Gods

We've tried our hand at their game

And you know they were really a bunch of sods

Who really are all much to blame

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth

That was how it was until Jesus hit the roof

And literally tore the false Gods from the ceiling

And he said instead turn the other cheek

But who is listening to him now eh?

Christ's way seems to be thought of as weak

And I get the feeling that he must be reeling

Because no one is listening to him speak

Leaf

 Leaves lie on the ground

Leave me alone man

Take a leaf out of her book

Brook the pain with a leaving look

Leave the train, leave the station

Leave your mother

Leave your destination

Turn over a new leaf

And leaf it through again

Dry leaves are blown

Sometimes

The body is a tree

That has sown

It's seed in me

Sometimes

I am a leaf falling free

Sometimes like

Now

I am a leaf

Upon the ground

My veins stand out

And I feel tread upon

By heels of doubt

Bereft of my strong home

But I did my job

Now I am left alone

Of Mice and Man / Brick and span/ The Angel Gabion fan

 And the angel Gabion

Came down from up on high

And said I want a bridge here

Now get out your pigsty

Put down your hammers

Give the dog a bone

And build me some pillars 

out of rock and stone

But the people at first they built 

Them out of sand

And the good Angel Gabion

He couldn't understand

Why have ye builded me

These pillars of salt?

Do you not know

How the weathers will assault?

And the Lorries rumble

And the bicyclists vault

One crack in these

Will bring on a fault

And the whole bridge will crumble

And the night shall fall down

And heaven will be humble

She will lose her high crown

So if ye are not to let down

The plans of mice and man

Get off your arses

And make that bridge span

And build me some good gabions

Out of rock and stone

And don't put heaven in a rage

But make sure you pack them flatly

Inside their cage

Turn it into a smooth slope

We can follow with our eyes

And see it go gently up over the rise

And then together we'll cross the great divide

of the road to Pilton and reach the other side

But how shall we lay them 

asked one humble Sheptonian

And the man from Pilton he say

Lay man lay, 

lay them like great slabs

That the Cathedral stands on

They were built to last

And they hadn't even gabions

Just the master masons

And hand skills of the past

That surpassed all our expectations

But whose foundations still last

Yet we are not like the ancients

Neither in heroic skill or manner

But something of their way

Still passes on down the spanner

And we can still swing 

mattocks, shovels and hammers

And in the joints and limbs are feeling

At one with creation

And the intention of people to

Build something great

Whether resurrecting a railway

Or correcting a mistake

We'll soon get back on track

While the season lasts

And soon have the wheels rolling

Over the bridge running fast

And the people will be strolling

And admiring the view

And they'll thank their

lucky stars for we happy few

Who had the chance to build it

Or even just lend a hand 

in the spanning of the pilton road

Like in the works of mice and man

Rolling stones

 This is the road to somewhere

This is freedom mile

This is give me a handshake

And show me a smile

Lift and pass rock cake, clay cake

from the pile

Filling up gabions with mistakes

of a style

Broken hill makes for a prison of selves

Fragments of yesterday

Reveal themselves

In hillocks, and tussocks

In snags and strife

As they cut their trace

Into our life

The road to tomorrow

Leads on from yesteryear

Resurrecting

And grasping

For ideas out the air

But plans have been lain

And ideas sown

As each of us is rolling

And moving moss from stone

Lifting the weight 

like Atlas off his shoulders

Pushing rocks uphill

Like sisyphus and his boulders

But hoping for better

And hoping for new

Because we all write in our letters

What we hope to come true

Ordinary pain

 Ah

Paracetamol

For Ordinary pain relief

Oh I looked at that window ledge with

A little too much

indifference

ah

ordinary pain

Oh what can I do

I feel ordinary pain!

Why don't you try paracetamol

For ordinary pain relief

Do not take more than is in the bottle

Stop around midday

No more than 12 in 12 hrs

Stop

Stop taking paracetamol now

This is ordinary

It is everyday pain

No you do not need it 

Stop

Does it still hurt?

Yes

Ok take co-codamol

Or go on Sertraline

I miss Budapest

 I miss Budapest

And the tunnel with the mess

Near the Nyugati station

That you walk under to find the street of thunder 

Where the bullet holes

From the revolution lie

Like blocks of swiss cheese

Left by the armies

The Russian soldiers

Hungarian revolutionaries

How I miss Budapest 

It's all such a fucking mess

But that is why

I love that country

England is so boring and

Predictable nothing

Happens but the rains

And a submersible

Goes missing down a drain

A mother suffers

Pain

Or a PM forgets the name

Of his wife

Then

The Economy unbounds

I mean like when 

Paradise Lost is found

And he calls for all Football fans to lament

And he calls for all Opera fans

To start laying cement

On the yellow brick road To Eden

Or Scotland or was it

Swindon

I forget

I am forgotten

Because at Bottom

We are top

And ready to Rock

The world to its foundations

Just hold the gun

And pull the trigger

Because you know he is bigger

But you are better

Despite your

first reservations

So hold true to your quiver

And deliver the river

Of hearse resuscitations

I mean rehearsed recitations

I miss Budapest

and you

Baby

I miss Budapest

and you