Brian Loves You

Your sweet love and music gets me through
I've danced while doing the dishes to 'Love You'
Reaching those high notes, dancing in shoes
Out the window goes the cold and the blue

Surf's up, Brian, your baby and you just want that good time
In the cantina or your room til you die
This whole world of mine will be filled
By the wrecking crew and the sound of you

I don't need anyone to love me cos I have
bunch of your records and I can pretend like a kid
In the back of dad's car listening to the radio
and imagining a love that's better than real life

So just give up

It's not going to stop
It's not going to stop
Til you wise up







So just give up.


(Aimee Mann)

I just don't know how to talk to you

I've got nothing really to say to you
I go out of my way to not say hello
Because I don't want to discuss it
I just want to hide in your coat pockets
Can you be with someone and not be looked at

Rose Bay

Over the bridge and past the families
It's a completely different world
Water and fresh air and houses the size of, well, houses
I sit tight and try to find the noise and I come up white.
And it scares the shit out of me.

Dream

It was someone I used to know's birthday
But it started at another friend's house
Talking to a girl that's new in my life
With people I adore around me
As we headed off via a video store
And saw the birthday girl's sister
And her new boyfriend who she lived with
And we met up with others
Across the road and outside the house
And the strongest image that stays
Hour after the dream actually happened
Is sitting there, across the road
Looking at the people carry wine and presents
Into the house that doesn't exist in real life
And the girl that's new opposite me
Sitting legs crossed and leaing forwards
Her foot dangerously close to mine.

Like my father before me

Stop the world!
I want to get on.
Like my father before me.
And my brother before me.

Pills

I am beyond blue
And I don't know what to do
I'm afraid that they hand out pills
Like pamphlets for religons
A hit of existential sense
That leads to evil things

Someone Else's Dream

You lit the spark
Ding dong dark and your restless body swings
In the breezeI was laid back, laid flat, laid off
And I didn't even want the job
AnywayIt's too late now

I'm in someone else's dream

Let's all go to the Holy Soul
To that soulless hole
Where the restless people go
To shout
Oh you never got out
Don't you hate it when we just say hi
They don't see the sadness in your eyes
Let's dream it down

I'm in someone else's dream

Oh get me out
Yeah get me out
Are you having someone else's dream

My friends know I've tried

Just one glimpse of ankle and I
react like it's 1905

Nothing Hurts When You're On

My friend died
the other night
It took all light
From my sky
So I need your voice
And those boys
In your band
To make some noise

Rollover DJ

I've often wondered
What makes man commit crimes?
But even I would sometimes
If it were for the likes of you.

Non specific bitter rant about music today

I was going to have a go at a specific band, how fucked they are, how I don't get it, how I hate the way they carry themselves, how they are like the watered down diarrhea of Franz, how they have nothing to say, how they should learn to fucking sing cos it's an actual skill you fuck and competent is not good enough,...but I won't. I hope that band well. Yeah, I hope they become huge.

But I'm sick of this shit. I remember when you would get beaten up for being in a rock band. How playing guitar in the face of electronica rock of Magoo and Alex Lloyd was a tour of duty, and cutting edge art. When local bands ambitions were to make a record as good as Deserter's Songs, and not "internationalizing" (an actual word!) and getting a manager in the industry.

When did it all revert?? When did dressing like a band make you a band? Playing music together makes you a band. And nothing else. The only way to act like a band is to be holding instruments at the same time as someone.

I'm really sick of it. I hope guitar rock of all sorts dies in the fucking arse again, so I can enjoy being a contemporary music fan again. Right now, new music seems like a turd lying in my drink.

There is no need to cry

I think I've had enough
I've been doing this too long
I'm just going to go
And not be sad anymore

The Climber

by Neil Finn

Beside me now are strangers to my eyes
They might be getting crazy might be wise
we're stranded either way
in such a lonely place
i'm looking out for you among the flies
that wait in line
for days on end

i try to reach the top most every day
in hope i turn my face upto the sky
the cover hangs so low
is see no sign of life
nothing springs to mind
among the flies that wait in line for days on end
and nights so cold it's always so intense

and here we are
there's a smile between us and its going on

you and me have always gotten through
anyone can tell you that it's true
you feel it every time you drive away from home
the headlights hypnotise
and they take you off towards the sea
into the night you run away
with thoughts you cannot hide

I Wish I Was Your Friend

I wish I was your friend
When you cry
You look like you could use
A good one
Like I can be
When you cry

Why don't the buildings cry?

His lungs are machines
His hands are a fridge
You fuckwits don't
Deserve the privilege
Of sitting in the afternoon
Sun while it sets
Enjoying every second
Of your cigarettes

- Youth Group

They said
You bury
The dead
What's buried?
Rosie said
It's something you do
When people are dead

The Body

The body just laid there cold as a stone
I stared at the floor to pretend I'm alone
She's explaining to the children I barely know
How a body can lay there without it's soul

I wonder where I can buy funeral clothes
As I sit on a train and cry on my own
I don't believe in heaven so there's no place to go
So the body will lay there without it's soul

Funeral clothes

Funeral clothes are black
Should I buy expensive ones
How sad that when I wear them
Or even think of them
It will be bad news
And where do you buy them?

I have nothing to say
Although I know you lie

Heal Away

Heal away
Heal away
Close the wounds
Loose ends to lose

I Should Just Ask You To Marry Me

For you know who you are

I should just ask you to marry me
There's no one I'd rather be married with
Am I wasiting time by waiting
I'm running the risk of letting you slip

We agree on just about everything
If only to disagree about everything
Even your friends can see...

That I should just ask you to marry me
There's no one I'd rather be living with
There's nothing more I'm looking for
That you don't already come packaged with

We agree on just about everything
If only to disagree about everything
Even your ma can see
That I should stop second guessing
And just pop the question

I should just ask you to marry me
There's no one I'd rather be kissing with
My head's so high my feet are in the sky
I hope someone up here's selling rings

We agree on just about everything
If only to disagree about everything
Baby let's agree on one more thing

That it's crazy
To be alone
When I know
Yeah I know.

A conversation

Nothing's gonna happen but...

Why do you say that?

Oh, well, you know it's not that...

Why would you even say that?

Well I'm not counting it out...

Yes you are!

No, I meant despite what happens...

Just don't say that dude

...or maybe regardless of what happens

OK

It's just nice to talk to her.

Just don't say that.

Letter to an Old Friend

How are you?
I've got nothing
It's just the same
Plodding along
The last two years
Is a page of a letter
Talking mainly about the last month
Maybe I'm too old
For big changes to occur
I'm smoothing out
Plateau-ing, surviving
Same old, same old
Maybe a lie
Will console your curiosity
And you'll leave me alone
Cos I've got nothing

All big gestures and images
And not real at all

Hopeless as in romantic
Or my eyesight
I need glasses
Thanks for caring
I'm so shallow
I need a deep breath
Not more deep thoughts

Pantene Hair Girl part 2

Dear PHG,

can you please be on the train today. I'm having a shit day and it would turn it all around. A pretty face to make my day. Yours.

I wish I could somehow, by some divine intervention, have a drink with you. Like the world was folded like a greeting card and we all slid into the middle, and in that middle was a pub, and I had money in my pocket to buy you a drink. And I would have you alone enough to say something sweet, that you might remember when other boys come and talk to you when I go to the bar or the toilet. And that when I came back you would cold shoulder that stupid fucking jock and his rugby shirt. We can go straight past impressing, and go straight to the good part of getting to know eachother. And I can make you feel like the world is just you and me, for my sake more than yours, and I can hear your stories told with sound effects and hand gestures. The haircut you had as a kid, the friends you left up north, every costume you've worn in the story of your life. And I can rest my fucked up head on my arm and look at your face from a new angle and wonder how it remains so good. Just get me out of my one for one night. And somehow, maybe the jock returns, or it gets too crowded, and we can go, anywhere. Money for a taxi, or even a train or a plane. And no one knows where the fuck we are. Our mobiles are off. And we remember how great it is to meet a new person, with a new voice, a new smile, new skin, new stories, leaving new footprints on old dirt on King St. We can go get a pie at Shakespeare's if you're hungry. And that strange dude who works behind the counter there on the late shift, the only weirdo they could find to do it I imagine, would look at you, and look at me, and not compute why I lucked out. And I'll just give a loose smile and shrug, the way men and boys do to eachother, to say, who knows what the hell these softer, warmer half of the human race thinks, I'm just going with it, ya know? And then who knows. One night spent right could lasts for years. But it's not going to happen and I think I'm just gonna crawl into bed and hope when I wake up on a world other than the one I've been visiting lately.

I love you
Breaking-down Bill

Thanks, Linklater part 2

At best we we're running in a race
Days are only circles in space
Do we wait for fate to intervene?

Ashfield Skyline

The concrete sings with Paul Kelly's voice

Thanks, Linklater

At best we have a hundred years
No one really lives longer than that
Is that enough time for you to know me

Are we really that tough to crack
Like jokes you get when thinking back
But you'll need to try a little to know me

Sorry

One day
When we're rich
We should send
That newsagent in Stocklands
A cheque for like
A thousand dollars
Or something.

But it doesn't mean we're sorry.
We are Australian.