When the cows come home

At 8 O'clock I join the race
Put on things to obscure my face
The sun is hard and the streets are wet
And I make believe I'm not like the rest

The herd all walk with a shoulder sag
Some have matching laptop bags
I want to keep my milk moustache
To make believe I'm to like them

And if I feel I'm going crazy
Maybe it's for the best

At 6 O'clock the cows come home
Herd into trains and squeeze our bones
And wait it out til mornings
May the circle remain unbroken

Maybe

Maybe I've never actually been in love
That something and someone will come along
And prove me right

Thinker!

Quick!
Try not to think!
Put a finger to your lips
And death stare the voices in you head
And go shhhhh!!!

Secret Identity

Who would you tell?
Who could you tell?
Open up your shirt and it all goes to hell
The part of you you call myself
Who would you tell?

Red tape

Our hearts are made of red tape
I don't know what it will take

Voices

by Cheap Trick

I'm the fool again
I fell in love with you again
I need to see you every day

In my dreams

In my dreams I'm awake
And I can see as clear as day

Incongrous (part 2)

Did I tell this joke already?
You look like you don't mind

Pantene Hair Girl Again

Dear PHG,

you make me laugh. What do you mean you get lonely? You make no sense. You are Tommy-Lee-invites-you-into-his-limo-gorgeous. You should not be so understanding of my unsocial escapist tendencies. Guys are lining up to treat you just like how beautiful you are.

But yes, lets be friends

Bill.

sometimes I forget

You know how can I get sometimes
Sometimes I forget why

Fix

That old saying
I'm the way god made me
I refuse to be fixed
I'd rather be faulted
Than augmented and nullified

My last song

This is the last song I'm ever writing
And it goes like this

I've simply lost the feeling
I used to have it
I used to care and want to
Bring something into the world

But nowadays I don't want anyone
Knowing my name and knowing my thoughts
Let alone my feelings
And my soul is my own
So stop taking photos

And songs have let me down
And my need to contribute to this world
Is gone and dead
And I'm happy to just throw myself in the nearest river

So this is the last song I'm ever writing
And it goes like this
And I will tell lies for the rest of my life.

My friends

I wish I was more like my friend Pete
Who has the best sense of humour
And stands on such solid ground

I wish I was more like my friend Sophie
Who sees the absurdity of the world
And enjoys it with childish delight

No More Talking (version 2)

No more talking
No more thinking
No more wandering around in prose

No more walking
No more wishing
No more awkward sitting pose

No more stalling
No more singing
No more sounds in minor keys

No more leaving
No more lying
No more not being with me

No more talking

Look, no more talking, ok?
You don't have to say anything
And the hardest thing is sitting in silence
But it's also the best

We sit in awkward poses
Wonder if you know this
Doesn't matter to anyone
That the universe ignores us

We're young atheists in love
With nothing to prove
And I can wait til you decide
You'll let me shield your eyes

Young Atheists In Love

There's little to believe in
But you and me

Someone Else's Dream

by Toby Martin

I was laid back, laid flat, laid off
And I didn't even want the job
Anyway it's too late now

You're having someone else's dream

Get me out.

Our Band Could Be Your Life

Dear D.,

No one really cares about that anymore do they? I'm sorry.

1000 days

catching up with a friend over the last 1000 days

Here's what I remember
What is relevant
What you should know happen since you left
And what is happening now that you're back:

* In Enmore, on my own
* No, I don't really see that person anymore.
* I got kind of depressed but I'm okay now
* No I'm not seeing anyone at the moment
* Fucking love the Shins. Have you heard Nada Surf?
* Yeah one album. We've started work on another.
* No, last I heard she's in New York. With that fuckhead of a boyfriend.
* Yes. I don't get to see her very much. We talk by email a lot.
* No I can't believe she got married either. What's Tim like?
* I got the 60GB photo. It's just over half full.
* Yes, we're old. Maybe I should settle down. It's been on my mind.
* Yeah, things are good, really.

Another dream

Dennis Wilson was playing an imaginary song
And like I was lining up in the movie Brazil
I stormed off, sick of the politics
And I walked straight past you but you tried to grab me with both arms
And I pushed you away and left

Incongruous

Still it seems
Incongruous to me
That I haven't known you for a million years

Thousands of days

Parallel Universes

If you've ever regretted anything you say
That's the only words you had anyway

I Keep Waking Up

Maybe it's the foods that I don't eat
Or maybe something's eating away at me.

Unlovable

I've already been broken in two
I've hurt everyone I ever knew

In the year

In the year when my friends began to die
Not just people that my parents knew but real friends of mine
A lot of things I believed in also died
But I was a much better person when I got to the other side

I got pretty sad there for a while
I pretty much just drifted through and never smiled
Except in cruelty at the world that's grown wild

Consider Me

Hello there
Dark hair
Waving my arms in the silent air

I see you
You see me
But you don't ever see the other side of it

And I only notice the world's all ours
When you mention it

And is there something I can do
To get you to
Consider me?