"The Morning Saga"

Written as Steve and I were finishing off Hard Rock Hotel, The Garibaldis' by this point a two-man outfit. I was mightily depressed at my close friend David's departure and from this void came a burst of violent creativity. In one-sitting I wrote the music and words for "The Morning Saga", a seven-part suite; an acoustic demo version of which featured on my hastily compiled debut solo album, From the Wonderous Mind... in the summer of 2010. It is an early example of automatic writing, or more accurately, 'automatic song-writing.'

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THE MORNING SAGA
Monday
Morning the start of the week can I face another seven days? Morning time to get up what lies ahead I don’t know and never shall unless I rise. It’s Monday my friend, it’s Monday my friend. Monday I feel so rough, recover, stains on the sheets; who did I do? Last night in a daze? The start of the week seven more days…

Tuesday
Tuesday morning I feel quite refreshed, the sun is shining to ease me out of rest. In several hours I’ll be back on my job, kind of depressing, I feel like eating hog: so I ate and I ate and I ate and I ate, I licked the last of the hog right off of my plate: a hearty meal at the start of the day help’s the brain, that’s what they say. Half an hour later and I’m on the train to work, the day seems so much brighter than yesterdays depressing murk; the train’s rather packed but I’m not claustrophobic which is a relief, cos’ if I was, chances are I’d have passed out by now. So I travelled and I travelled and then I got to work, the boss said I looked a mess which really did quite hurt! I ignored his comments and sat down at my desk, where after a lengthy burp I had a heart attack.

Wednesday
Wake up, smell of disinfectant in the air. I look up and guess who is standing there - the doctor! Says hello “You had a heart attack, now you’re in hospital, pal” Oh thank you, I tell him and get a strong urge to eat a cow - I say to him: Doctor is there any chance of you purchasing a cow for me to eat? He turns and laughs says “you are a silly idiot!” Excuse me? I say - he says “you don’t realise why you had a heart attack do you?” No, is my reply, he says it’s cos’ I consumed a hog all in at the same time I like my food I told him, needless to say, he wasn’t impressed: “Well you’re doing fine” he told me “just hold back on the hog’s and don’t get depressed or stressed” I packed a little suitcase with my bed gown, said “goodbye, nurses! Hope I’ll never see you around!”

Thursday
Thursday hits you a like a train but does not stop there only two more days to go then the weekend is here! Get up give the wife a kiss - wow forgot I even had a wife - where was she yesterday? While I was fighting for my life? Why do I like Thursdays so much? I just don’t know. It’s only past mid-week which this week’s been slow when did I get married? Christ, do I have kids? Why do I like Thursdays so much? I just don’t know? Time to take the kids to school - what happened on Monday? They must have taken themselves along, wow this is getting weird. Time to visit the doctor ask him if this is normal: to forget you’ve got a wife and kids, I think I’m going to faint…

Friday
Wake in a daze: I’ve been here before… Distinct smell, polished floors? Yep. It’s hospital. Twice in one week. Some record… What happened yesterday? Here’s the doc: excuse me! "Ah, yes, back again are we! I thought you said you were to avoid us? Not doing a very good job are we sir? Well I suppose you’re wondering what’s wrong? Well the reason you’re here is that your mind is playing tricks on you. No, you don’t have children. No, you don’t have a wife. You’re just a dirty old no-gooder, who dreamt of having a job and a real life. Ever woken up to stains on the bed? That’s because you’re a paedophile. You should be in prison but they let you out on the basis that you mind was all screwed up. Every day is different to you. You put yourself in new scenarios, you could say your life is one big saga – every day you’re someone new. Yesterday you fainted, hit your head after walking aimlessly around the streets shouting for your wife and children. On Tuesday, you had a heart attack because you ate a whole hog in under 17 minutes – thinking you had to be at work. You turned up in some office and no-one knew who you were. But look on the bright side, you have no life, but, it’s Friday morning!" I’ve woken up, it’s Friday! The end of the week what more can I say? Gonna go out get boozed up take home some girl let my anger out. I get my kicks from beating little girls it makes me feel big, I like it if their hair’s curled. People think I’m bad but it turns me on so look out Clapham cos’ I’m on the pull! Friday! Pack my bag again leave his damn ward maybe go on holiday? The Caribbean looks nice at this time of year, think I’ll do some robbing to fund my trip. I get my kicks from being a nasty man, I go through phases I just don’t understand; sometimes I forget myself - believe I’m someone that I’m not - but now my head’s clean I’m gonna party like its 1994!

Saturday
Aching head, what did I do last night? I’m lying cold on the floor feel like I’ve had a fight. Come to my senses, look all around a familiar sight greets me this morning: I’m in prison again. I'm in prison again. Policeman comes to call says I’ve done wrong, I beat to death a kid - a girl - who I impregnated. I swear that’s the fourth this month, I’m getting used to doing time; drugs and drink and stuff, memories of a past life. I'm in prison again. I'm in prison again. Time to get a move on, time to go to court - I know this is deja-vu of one particular sort. I think amongst my fantasies, in one life I lived a life - a butcher by the day a murderer by night; I'm in prison again...

Sunday
Up all night since yesterday all cos’ I’m on the run, no time to sleep no time to think just run-run run-run run! No looking back to see if the coppers are catchin’ up, if I get caught this time round they’ll throw away the key. I’ve lived a thousand lives and all in one week, I've been so many faces I forget which is me! No point talking my way outta this one if I did what they said: murderer? Paedophile? That sounds about right, I’d be better off dead. Hate, pain, all in one week, no refrain. On the run, no turning back, I could just stop running and have a laugh - but I won’t. Monday: start of the week, Tuesday: ate to much hog, Wednesday: hospital daze, Thursday: one of my turns, Friday: tripping out, Saturday: if only I could remember! Mornings pass here and there who knows what the next seven days will bring...

"Ten-Pin Rehab"

A set of lyrics for an unfinished song intended for an extended version of Hard Rock Hotel, provisionally titled "Off Cutts". Unsurprisingly this track - along with another 22 songs split between myself and Steve - never got finished (or in some cases started) for that project. On reflection, these lyrics wouldn't have added anything significant to the HRH narrative.

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TEN-PIN REHAB

Going down the bowling alley

Knock down all those pins

Makes me feel real damn happy

The strength it takes to win

Pickin’ up a big fat ball

‘N lobbing it down the track

Just to take my mind off drugs

And the sins I’ve commited over the years, innit!

Going down the bowling alley

Tonight at twelve

Time has no concept

In my little World

Gonna bash some little pins

With a huge big bowling ball

Power feels so damn good

Even though I’m small!

Ten-pin, rehab

Oh yeah!

Ten-pin, rehab

Oh yeah!

Ten-pin, rehab

Oh yeah!

Ten-pin, rehab

Oh yeah!

Ten-pin, rehab

Oh yeah!

Ten-pin, rehab

Oh yeah!

Ten-pin, rehab

Oh yeah! – I’m gonna play to forget about all the sins I’ve commited!

"David David, I Love You"

One of three tracks written in a therapeutic burst of inspiration for what, at the time, I planned to be a solo album. The song has never been recorded and is so personal, I'm not sure I could bring myself to do so. I would rather not say explicitly to whom the song refers, only that it comes from the heart and hopefully will stimulate the duel feelings of adulation and loss for that special person who may no longer be in your life.

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DAVID, DAVID (I LOVE YOU)

David, David

Would you condemn me?

If I told you my feelings

Have changed

David, David

Please do hear me out

I want you to know I

Feel…  I:

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you I do!

David, David

Would you believe me?

If I told I was happy and

Gay?

The things we have done

Over the years

Are illegal I have no

Doubt

But David I just wanted to say

You mean more than you could ever know

Even if we have to make love

In a caravan

When I am rich

I’ll buy us a house

With a bed if you’ll agree

To take my hand!

You are the pickle to my cheese

You make my head spin round

Not in a nasty Exorcist way

But in a pleasurable way I assure you

David no words can describe

What you mean to me

A guess the phrase “lots and lots and lots”

Kind of sums it up though

I hate the fact you had to move away

Just because what you were doing ain’t strictly legal

Doesn’t make you a criminal in my mind

So stay on the run and I’ll come to see you soon!

David, David

Would you condemn me?

If I told you my feelings

Won’t change

David, David

Please do hear me out

I want you to know I

Feel…  I:

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-

Love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you-love-you I do!

"Burn and Smoulder"

A song composed through my 'automatic writing' technique. Intended for a 2006 solo album, when this never came to pass the song was forgotten about. I don't feel it is my greatest work, written in a bipolar fog one November eve; mourning the loss of my dearest.

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BURN & SMOULDER
We’re gonna burn and smoulder

Burn     and       smoulder

Now the work is done

We can have some fun

I’ll take care of

All your fears, we’re gonna

Burn     and       smoulder

Burn     and       smoulder

Burn     and       smoulder

Burn     and       smoulder

Why won’t you let me go

With you back down under?

You know how I love it there

Riding my pony quite content

I’ve seen the light, I know it’s true

I want to have your children

But you think I’m not good enough

So you won’t give me your womb!

I’m lost, in this

Tomb!

I need your

Womb!

Now I’ve said goodbye

Forgive me if I die!

Listen to the ticking clock

Now accept my sperm!

Burn     and       smoulder

You     me       and a child!

Burn     and       smoulder

Love    my       family!

Burn     and       smoulder

Burn     and       smoulder

Burn     and       smoulder

Burn     and       smoulder

"Bonfire Night"

Hastily yet effectively written, "Bonfire Night" would have been the lead single had my 2006 solo album ever come into fruition; definitely the catchiest of my early 'automatic writing' pieces.

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BONFIRE NIGHT

Bonfire night,

Oh what a fright

Fireworks and such

Making lots of noise

Don’t try to fight

The deep-down inner fright

Otherwise it might bite

And cause an even bigger fright!

Another bang, another bang, a rush of blood to the head

Makes me laugh, makes me cry, a flow of blood through the veins

Should I look? Should I look? Oh! I just looked it really wasn’t nice

Then again, the fire and flames, running around the place…

…Makes me think

Bonfire night

Oh, what delight!

Bonfire night

To hear the children sing!

They sing about things

That me feel good

Like Guy Fawkes who tried to kill

All the British parliamentarians back in the day!

Bonfire night,

Catching the winter flight

Darkness from here

For it is the end of the year

Bonfire night,

Oh what a sight

Parkin’ and toffee up to your ears

Eat away your darkest fears

Months go by and months go by and then it turns into November

Makes me laugh, makes me cry, this year I can hardly remember

Sit by the window – look at the fireworks

Makes me think of China and the middle east where they were probably made!

…I’m guessing

Bonfire night

Oh, what delight!

Carting around my Guy

To get lots of money

Going up to my neighbours home

Makes me feel real good

Unless of course they have no spare change

But then I will just vandalise their house

Bonfire night

Oh, what delight!

Bonfire night

The air: what a sight!

Bonfire night

Oh, what delight!

Bonfire night

Get drunk and have a fight!

Bonfire night

Oh, what delight!

Bonfire night

Happiest day of the year

The Scot’s sing about things

That me feel real good

We laugh about old Guy

And all the British parliamentarians he nearly killed back in the day!