My Imagination’s Creation
Verse 1
My alarm clock is ringing,
As the desert starting singing,
And the poppies that have fallen,
Turn blind it’s appalling,
Then we rattle all our feels,
To someone who’s appealing.
We need a little comfort,
From those who are disbelieving

Verse 2
The baking sun is scorching,
My skin resorts to talking,
I stumble over mountains,
Through orchards and fountains,
My watch is strapped too tightly,
It suffocates and excites me,
To whistle through the night.

Verse 3
The blades are cutting sharper,
From now and ever after,
From here to the water,
Through brothers and daughters,
Are all wrinkled with ill feeling,
I used to be so happy,
Clinging on the ceiling.

Written in Rogart, Sutherland, Scotland 1985

The Communication Has Broken

Verse 1
The communication has broken,
We don’t talk any more,
No one has spoken,
Stillness drifts through the door,
All that we knew,
Has floated away,
Everything we grew,
Has gone today.

Verse 2
Communication has been severed,
Everyone has one home,
I knew this was on purpose,
You can hear people moan,
All that we had,
Has floated away,
In every sad,
Uncomfortable way.

Written in Dortmund, Germany 1986
Everything is Meaningless

Verse 1
Everything is meaningless,
Everything I hear,
From the honeycomb cliffs of fear,
To the devious red atmosphere

Verse 2
Everything is meaningless,
Everything I see,
from malicious tongues of hate,
To the salty forgotten tastes,

Verse 3
Everything is meaningless,
Everything I touch,
From people to cars to statues of gold,
To many of the belongings I hold

Verse 4
Everything is meaningless,
Everything I’m taught,
From being born from morning to dust,
From ashes to ashes dust to dust.

Written in Dortmund, Germany 1993

Sitting In the Middle Of A Gulf Stream Drift

Verse 1
Sitting in the middle of the gulf stream drift,
I was waiting for the fish to deliver my wish,
I was waiting 40 days and 40 nights,
And still the break of dawn is very precise.

Verse 2
I sang a little song to keep myself amused,
But they battered my love on the 1 o’clock new,
I am falling apart at the popping seam,
And the posse of cries is buzzing with flies

Written in Dortmund, Germany 1993

A Peculiar Man

Verse 1

He’s got no manners,
He likes to be sarcastic,
And his brain and heart,
Are made of plastic,
He chain smokes,
His body is in a ruin,
And the way he talks,
You think he was a woman

Verse 2

He likes to smirk,
At people in the street,
He makes stupid jokes,
He’s not nice to meet,
But everyone says Oh how do you do,
Looking back at yesterday,
It wasn’t that good

Verse 3

He spits everywhere,
He smells like a skunk,
And he always gets,
Just what he wants,
This man isn’t normal,
This man isn’t real,
He think’s like a machine,
The man can’t feel.

Written in Dortmund, Germany 1995

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