Another round Of this never-ending loop Of boring routine which At least three times I Already lived and You ask: Another round? Mate, I’m fine I prefer to dive Into a butterscotch dream Pain relief No more grief In bloom under the coziest Childhood Youth Blanket, hey! You’re ruining the mood, babe You’re right, babe So stop, babe I try, babe I… Get up and hope You’d bury me here I shut the eyes And disappear

So, in London When the sun goes down It goes down Not like in America Where the sleepless star Runs 24/7 365 Like a madman Strung to a stringless guitar and Stop No I got more Unexciting News to share With you And it’s 12:50 12:52 12:53456 7 Bingo! I won Fuck no Never got any prize In my life You’d better gamble On a limpless horse Not me Stay away The beat is hot Be bop Kerouac’s singing No he’s not A melodyless cinema Scroll Which talks about my life Wrong You wish You super mega duper Humbug Fraud Whatever I am But it’s night already 3 pm Wintertime’s a bitch Up here I wish I could hit the bed Blackout for a minute’s month Forget about myself Yet I need to Want to Keep moving through Wards Let’s say it Life is sheer Torture From day one ToDay last But you don’t know No Would be too easy Ask god He’s having a laugh At us From day one ToDay last Fucking hell I’m repeating myself so Not only I am Boring And bland Now I’m also Bland And boring And Let me tell you Fuck off Youth Yes, That’s exactly what I wanted To tell myself today Matt: Yeah? You suck Thanks, man You got it I got it alright I guess That’s just my way Of drowning And choking And shushing The fuck out of this Beautiful pain

Poet I swore to Rob that I was None And he got me straight Away He said, Man You are not A poet But I am Asked my mum She said What? You write rhymes? I also write… Unbelievable Other stuff like Shut up novels and Bollocks Anyhow, mum? Yeah? Am I? What?! A poet. Fuck me No shit Listen She started but I didn’t Listen Cause you know I know my potential I know I am A real Unmistakeably The Greatestest Uh? Don’t fucking laugh Please Rob I am serious here I sold 5 Maybe 6 Oh yeah babe Copies of my shit So forgive me for My straightforward Cheekiness I am famouser than God, (a colleague) Shakespear’s mate Kerouac insane I am betterer than heaven Heavier than Hell I forgot To put down my pen While pondering The thoughts I thought I had Secretly shut under the bed Side Table Living room Twisting the carpet Of my main Brain Less Cranium It’s hard I am a star Innit, Rob? What? Shut up? And look at the Camera? But… Flash! Crash. On the floor Looking at the map Less Chart Oh god And Done.

Lullaby My solitude like Mudhoney Caress me along The stream of Waves Air Waves Ripple the soul In bed Two dreams ago But I forgot Yeah I forgot The bliss of The sweat of On stage Screaming my teenage away Crawling the backdoors away I’m too old for that shit So I sit and sip my tea Staring at the void inside my eyes On spare nights I lay down And die Without making a

I’m O I Bet’er than ever Bet’er than you You bastard You anyone But specifically you Let’s not digress Where was I? Yes I’m O I Incredibly good Fuck me I’m gonna blow your third eye With the extraordinariest of Mind-blowingly Shut up What? Fuck you You who Don’t believe in my Shit Even when I’m brilliant Delusionally astounding Deranged to the point that Hey For Chrissake But I lost my audience Just as Francis said and Who am I kidding? There’s nobody here Yet you stopped listening To my passive aggressive Endless Call for attention Moaning Rightfully You’re not listening to me No more And I understand Cause you have your own bad day to deal with To survive Life Mate, U O I? I’m O I No you’re not That’s a lie Nobody is fucking fine I’m not She’s not They’re not No One Got A bloody jolly Good day Ever In this country In a million years Except when we say I’m O I Everything’s fine All good Same old Paying the bills Living the dream With a crooked straight face That hides the harsh Truth inside

Well well well, It appears I'll have to do the whole fucking thing by myself, innit? Video, music and voice? It sounds pretty interesting. And colossally no profit for no fucking anyone Therefore, it sounds like a brilliant plan. I'll get to it as soon as I feel the urge to create the umpteenth creation for no one to enjoy. Right before I get poor for good Right before I start snoring on That cardboard bed under the bridge Right before I go wrong But maybe I won't. Get poor I mean. Maybe I'll get rich as beep Rich as fucking beep Beep as beep beep beep goddammit I don't know. Maybe this nonsense video will make us both Famous. Maybe not. Maybe, it may be. Mate is that it? I... Fuck.

Life goes Not because It’s time They’re knocking on your door Waiting for you Underground Or above and beyond Like cloud Unravel my last words Stitch them back together Suit yourself Make me shine Like a god of light You’ll find a meaning to My remarks Hissed to you in a rant form You got it, kid That’s it so Puff me out Like smoke in a damp wet morning Freezing cold night Like cloud I’ll levitate and swim the skies Say goodbye and Light it up Another one Another fag Dangling by the side of my mouth Like a cowboy or A rockstar Hollywood movie Starlet Nah Forever above On your head Over the earth Cloud nine Make me laugh I’m laughing myself out Funnying myself silly Aren’t you better now? Wait, You… Who? I know. So watch me surf And puff Away for good For the real truth is We’re better off Among the peace of These sky’s blues

Sometimes I dream Of getting a job at the Post Office and be The Bukowski I’d like to greet and I’d like to drink But it’s not my thing If I go beyond one, Or two sips I swear I get high And paranoid like Shit At least I had a grunge band And I screamed And smoked But that was no weed Only ciggies Cause I get tipsy at the sole smell of That thing Anyhow, Sometimes I’d like to be Foolish me, oh well I mean, I’d like to be born in the Seattle scene Die at 27 Reach Kurt up in heaven But I’m too old already 37 Missed all my dead lines I’m immortal now and Wait a second I ain’t no Jesus either Cuz that one Bosh! At 33 and I told you already Don’t make me repeat So I guess I’ll stay Away from me I’m sick as fuck Trying my best To keep the goddamn Self awake In one piece I even You know what? Started doing sports lately I swim the sickness out of me And back Once a weak Sorry, But that’s it I have myself on a leash Quit all sorts of things Coffee Sugar Nicotine I stopped believe I ain’t a ‘20s/‘50s/‘60s New Yorker author no more Where’s the smoke Hovering the heads-less offices Open spaces that never were Only in my mind Tickless type Writer of a kind Why?? Where’s my goddamn Stash of God, No, I had to reinvent myself Bin all the previous me(s) and Cry Cry Cry Then Start from scratch Keep up with my burning stomach Which can’t be defused Extinguish the flame Really I am in pain Too often Teen age Resurface Every now and now And I try To ink it all off into books To sing it down to reason To manage the effort And shoot the shit Out of my system For good Not understanding that That shit is nothing But me.