The news is broken

Breaking news inside my bed

Breaking news inside my head

Breaking news and breaking bread

Don't worry the news is broken

 

Breaking me, and breaking you

Breaking what is false and true

Breaking good and breaking bad

Gets us so we don't know what we had

 

Breaking faces and make up too

Breaking car chases and cocktail screws

Breaking beaches and breaking seas

The ice is broken, it has broken free

Oh mother, the news got broken

 

Out the bag and out a mile

Into space like a missile

Breaking moon rock on the moon

Breaking mars bars, and bending spoons

 

No one tells the truth just lies

Getting like you can't believe your eyes

And no one knows which way to turn

Breaking students are too broken to learn

 

You can try shutting your eyes

But they just open upon new lies

Same old faces, and the world got sold

But nobody told the news of the world

Now the news is broken

Oh, how the news got broken

 

It's a sad thing to have to say

That the truth can't have its day

And sadder still to see fake news got its way

Oh mother, the news is broken

 

Oh mother I had to be sure

So I checked behind the kitchen door

No one fake is hiding there

 Yes the news is fixed like a stare

Like the horses and football matches

You can try to beat the egg before it hatches

But that won’t get you anywhere

Or you may choose to light the fuse and blow the news wide open

But its cover is already blown, yes, the news is broken

 

Well it is like in the morning,

when the sun comes without warning

Don't look too long into to its face

Because you'll go blind and they'll find no trace

You'll get lost between the lines

Like a sheep lost inside the pines

When the wolves of Wall Street howl

You will know the newspaper growl

 

Or you may lay down and play dead

Like the high ups and the plebs

Who ate whatever they were fed

Yes the new got broken

 

Oh the news is like a fine lace

That falls upon the world

And it should walk with grace

Like a lady wearing pearls

 

But instead, it is downtrodden, it is hidden in the mud

It comes from all kinds of places squirming, wriggling through blood

And we love the guts and gore

Oh we love the broken egg

Yes and if you should abhor 

Then you'll find you're dropped down a peg

 

Oh, the news, the news got broken

By the fishermen laying lines

Out on the public ocean

Trying to catch fish upon which to dine

 

And willingly and pliable the public take the bait

And swallow up with love and greed

All things they're taught to hate

 

Yes, the news, the news got broken

By newspaper men in capes

Out to save the world from

All those things we just can't escape.

 

Like living together without conflict

Living and loving a fight

Loving and dying to recover

From a sea sickness or a fear of flight

 

And the rules, the rules got broken

But that is quite alright.

Because the newspaper men were the ones who wrote them

And they're the ones who must be right

 

Yes the news, the news got broken

And I say it in the drowning West

That the Eastern tiger is growling

And is hungry for the rest

 

He'll devour all the sacred cows

And steal from the witch’s coven

The food that made a meal of vows

Set out in cookie cutter American ovens

 

Yes, the news, the news got broken

And now it needs a fix

But what is offered is but a token

No better than a Weetabix

 

So, sell all the stories now!

Sell them to the other side!

For they will be writing in their letters

About how no more Oxford commas they can abide

Yes, the news, the news got broken!

 

You shovel shit down on Fleet street

Where the mighty flagships meet

But it’s not the end of the world that taste sweet

But the lies that set off the whole darned fleet

 

And you can look into the mirror

And try to figure how to get thinner

But the world is small enough

For the daily news to reach the rough

 

Out on the golfing green

Where the Rolls Royce and limousines

Are parked by the eighteenth hole

Where the newspaper lost its soul

Oh mother, oh yes the news is broken

A Cat’s tale

 The cataclysm of Catholicism

Is they did not recognize the schism

Until it was too late

and the cat had already been let

out of the bag

The Cathode ray tube made a killing

With the cats and rubes

Who searched for gold in the klondike

Where the wild cats growled up in the mountains

And spilled rivers down cathedral-sized

Chunks of quartz

Oh but a fleck here, and flick there

only constitutes a smattering of gold

But is enough to send cations screaming

Across electrode gaps in test tubes

Of the prospecting cat

This could be the catalyst he thinks to himself

Of a great change in my life

In which I become a fat cat, a millionaire

And strike it rich in the Yukon valley

But he didn't have cat in hell's chance really

Still that never stopped him dreaming

This cool cat, with the whiskers like steel

That bristle whenever someone mentions a meal

Or a plate of gold, or a mother lode

That is hidden under the hill

 

Catatonic now in the biting cold

Shivering in his steel shack

That has but one cat flap frozen shut

No chance of attack

By roving wolf packs or mountain lions

bearing teeth and swishing tails

When somewhere down in a southern state

The cattle are trailing along a lush green path

And the cat laughs, thinking of that

Then caterwauling he guffaws

And throws off his cape

The biting wind nips his nape

But he preens himself wide awake

And shakes off the sleep

 

Of all the catastrophic avalanches that could befall him now

He thinks not one bit, doesn't even wink

Instead takes a sniff of his catnip, and pip-pip, tootle-loo

He's off again into the wild blue

Yonder

The mountain peaks in wonder

He spies through cat's eyes closed as slits

To the snow in the sky

But then wide and dazzling bright in surprise

As he wanders over the old claims he has staked

The light snow fall is but falling in flakes

And the above the White river, he sees

The quartz that makes him shiver

And a thrill runs up his spine

And he is over come with joy

and catapults down the line

With his shovel and his pick

And in the hard rock he begins to dig

Deeper down and further still

Until he thinks he might need a drill

Then six feet under he reaches down

And follows the vein

That runs through the ground

Into a tiny nugget he holds in his claw

But these are but the hors d'oeuvres

Not yet the main course

Yet after only a little more time

That golden sunrise begins to shine

And his face is like a morning glow

As he is lifting up the huge mother lode

Yet behind him a shadow shifts

Is it cloudburst or another grift

Out to steal what he did not earn

Another cat burglar out to crash and burn

 

A bullet flies like a silver bird

And hits our cat with crash and purr

Cat falls flat and doesn't stir

Struck in the back by cuckoo cur

And down slinks the burglar

Into the pit, salivating like a dog

Dribbling spit, hungry for the gold

that is like a disease

And in his fervour and desire to seize

He forgets to check our cat is dead

And swift as a pigeon a pickaxe to the head

The burglar is down in the ground bleeding red

And cat with the mother lode climbs free from the grave

The hole is through his fur coat, but his organs are saved

Back on up to his shack he rolls 

Singing to the birds his cat carols

And happy as a cat who has got the cream

He retired back down where the meercats dream

Catastrophe

 The cat came in and got the cream

She licked the split, likety split went down like a dream

Then she spilt the milk, oh alabaster silk

Running like a nose all over the quilt

And the cat just froze, and the woman screamed

My dream, my dream, my kingdom for a fire hose

To spray the cat, but the cat soon scrammed

Knocking over a watering can, and taking with it

The kettle flex, which pulled along the perspex

Of the kitchen work top, toppling a mop

Until it reached the china vase

At which point my memory jars

Full of shattering, and the clattering of iron bars

Which rang out blue murder, sacre bleu

More wreck and damage could not be made

By a cat herder, on his way to the pound, waylaid

With his screaming contraband over turned 

With tails and claws, coming out of all his draws

Than this utter cat catastrophe.

Oh what's that I hear you mutter

Poor little pussy?!

No sir, no I say again neigh

This cat with her bells and whistles

Has gone too far on this day

Never again shall she dare to enter in

My wonderful sparkling clean kitchen 

and yet I hear her scratching little claws now

Under the door  just above the prow

Of the step, she purrs and meows

And inch by creeping inch, she is inveigling

herself back in

And soon she will be sitting pretty

As if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth

Poor little pussy, come and have some milk

The Truth

It was hidden behind a facade 

It was the tree lost in the wood of lies

I was blind to it, didn't want to hear it

Even closed my ears and eyes

And stuck my head in the sand

 

But it was ferreted out, it was winkled out

And prized apart like an oyster to reveal its pearl

It was weighed in the hand, on the scales of justice

It has been weighed against the purest gold

And found to be of perfect carat

It has the clarity of a diamond

It shines a light, but not through a prism,

It does not dance like an ephemeral rainbow

It stands tall, but is often hard to pin down

It changes shape or appears to sometimes

But in reality it never changes at all

It is fact incarnate

It is the living flesh of an idea of man

But then women know it

As too a child can

It requires, like the pearl, grit to make it stick

Courage to tell it

the balls to speak it

But like a weight-lifter's load

It is a relief to get it off your chest

And often involves fits of tears

And smeared make-up and tissues

In hospital waiting rooms

Or beside beds

It is pure,

It is the most valuable treasure we own

Yet it cannot truly be sold

Because when this is tried it disappears

Below the fold

To others it is a tradable commodity

Because someone will pay top dollar for it

But when they have it, they only wish to hide it again

And cover ups are cheaper when they are smoked

With a pack of lies

It is like a ticking bomb then, liable to explode

In their hands

Or like a burning match it will burn the fingers

Of the one holding it, yes, it is sometimes fire

And sometimes ice, because they die with it.

They take it to their graves.

And then the trail runs cold, 

But if we let ourselves sell the truth so cheaply

We sell with it our souls.

It comes out in the wash

With the dirty linen

It is the skeleton in the closet

To be discovered by the bin men

It is told in halves, in pieces of a puzzle

It is hinted at by clues or by fingerprints on a muzzle

It sometimes can seem dark, though often loud as a dog's bark

And like a dog with bone at play, it too must have its day

 

It is free to everyone whether a king or a slave,

Yet it can cost the earth, or it can cost a close shave,

It can slip from your hands when you don't watch it

You must keep your eye on the ball, you must be brave

It is the writing on the wall, it is the writing on your grave

It is truth and most of all if you speak it then someone’s life you might save

Ghost ship

 I am the ship that will never reach port

Sail all night for the pirate's sport

I am the ship that will never get caught

Well I sail all night, and I sail in the morn

By the morning light I'm still sailing on

Yes I am the ship that will never reach port

All the times that you have thought

I am the ship that is sailing on

To the endless seas of the horizon

And I never reach the final goal

Yes I am the ship with the ghost like soul

I am the ship against the rainbow

That chases the light, that chases the snow

I am the ship that will never reach port

Through the many wars that I have fought

I am the ship that will never reach port

A sailor's life is for the devil's sport

Down to the south where humpbacks are caught

Up to the North where life cuts short

I am the ship that will never reach port

Well the sabres swing, and scabbards fly

And gull on the wing will teach us how to sigh

And the swords they flash and the sailors cry

I am the ship that keeps fighting til I die

Yes I fought on through the wars of old

I fought to the rainbow for the pot of gold

I fought to the ends of the earth you see

For I am the ship on the rolling sea

And it rolls on down and it rolls on wide

And it rolls forever to the bright sunshine

And it rolls there now and it rolls so fine

And it rolls on down to the bright sunshine

Yes I am the ship that will never reach land

And I never touched sand and I never held a hand

I am the ship that will sail alone

Through the times of the age, but never reach home

I am the ship that will never reach port

I will sail all night and I'll never get caught

And the fires on the raging seas of time

And I'll never stop, never stop while I'm in my prime

And I wend and I wander through the days of olde

And the seas are coming and the seas are cold

And the waves are breaking on the ship's stronghold

The ship that will never reach the land

For the love who will never hold my hand

I am the ship that will never reach land

I will keep on sailing for as long as I can

I put down no anchor and ask the help of no man

Yes I am the ship that will never reach land

I ask for no quarter, no quarter from man

I am given no help except to stick to the plan

To be the ship that will never reach land

I am the ship that will never reach land

I am the ship that will never reach port

For I'm chasing the fish that will not be caught

And we chase him south and we chase him North

To the river mouth and round the horn

And the sailors shout and bloody oaths are sworn

In the dirty mouth of babes fresh born

They cry we are the fish who will never get caught

Through the summer drought or the winter storm

And I heard him out, I listened til his sails were torn

He was the tavern tout, a drunken sailor of the morn

And spoke his story with a bottle of stout

To all and sundry even out onto sea air his words were borne

A flash in the pan

 The midwives were busying themselves on the ward

The porters were portering, and the waiting patients looked bored

Nothing much was happening, it was the usual rap

When a certain tap-tapping began to tap

The matron cried "Ahoy there! I smell smoke between the sheets,

Either some aberrant's been smoking or there's a fire on the beat."

Just then the fire alarm rang out, a wailing, chilling sound 

And it stopped the matron somewhere abouts in the middle her round

 

The hospital crew acted bravely to carry out the matron's orders 

She told them to remove the mothers to safty in out-the-way borders

Down the stairs they went flying, like refugees they were sighing

But lucky they were to be evacuated in the nick of time from the scene

as smoke circulated around the bedpan macerating machine

Just then the fire brigade rocked up with their hard hats and their hoses

And they told all those locked up to hold on tight to their noses

And they stormed right up the stairwell, to fight the fire, and quell its flame

But none of them were to know then the bedpan by its burning name

The new mothers stared on with the look of those who had been stunned,

As they held their babes in arms took on the look of Mary or of nuns

But stern they were of will to survive this great ordeal

Hoping in their hearts that they might soon get a meal

Though the babes in arms were yet crying, 

the mothers charms they still kept trying

Until a calm had settled down upon the congregation

When a man decided to have a myocardial infarction

So as the midwives were treating this unfortunate chap

The firemen were charging through for a second lap   

 

The matron then in her most commanding voice

called for calm and order as if they had no choice

So in the end nirvana was again restored

And the patients kept on waiting and the waiting ones got bored

And the man who had been waiting to be seen

Now he had been seen he couldn't wait to leave

And as the last of the bedpan flames were quenched

The sad looking macerating machine was drenched

And luckily nobody's mother's waters broke

So they all trudged back up the stairs thinking what a joke

Because you know they say it never rains but it pours

Which is what they should write on the A and E doors

And all these things were sent to try us

Including bedpan macerating machine fires

And so before you ask if you can use the can

You better be sure it's not for a flash in the pan

Just the wind

 It's just the wind

Blowing wild and free, just the wind

The wind in the tree

Just the wind blowing through me

It's just the wind, the chaos within

The wind blowing free from the sin

The wind takes the ashes from me

And I am free, the wind is the key

When you are locked down, within or without

It is the wind, that sets you free without doubt

It's just the wind

It's just the wind inside of me 

it's just the wind that blows the ships on the sea

Its just the wind, bringing them closer to me

Through the chaos and night's vitality

Just the wind that blows on death's day

Just the wind that takes your ashes away

Just the wind that was talking to me

Just the wind telling me to break free

It's just the wind that opens my door

Just the wind but I thought it was more

It's just the wind that was knocked out of me

It's just the wind tryin' to break free

The wild wind, no chain can enslave thee

The wild wind has no master

Just the wind that brings destructive disaster

Just the wind but I thought it was you

You know your spirit will always stay true

Just the wind that whispers to me,

Those sweet phrases that let love be

Just the wind 

Just the wind

Just the wind blowing within or without

Just the wind and you can have no more doubt

It is the wind

It's just the wind

It's just the wind that's changing the world

Just the wind that blows in the new

Just the wind the blows out the old

That changes the guard

Just the wind that's blowing so hard

Just the wind the carries a new hope

Just the wind that moves us into new ground

Just the wind that blows the state's ship

To the new world without slavery's whip

Just the wind that sets the people free

From the dictator of state slavery

Just the wind that is ringing the bell

Who does it ring for? Nobody can tell

Just the wind that blows in the belfry

Just the wind that tells the people they are free