SCOTT BY ANY OTHER NAME
Like Baileys Irish Cream
Black Sheep Boy disguised behind shades
Combs back his none existent smile
Arms outstretched, thumbs in cord jean pockets
Angelic angel faced with torturous turgid memories
Fringe cascading softly on a forehead of frowns
Belting out thunderous, orchestral works of art
Vocalist supreme, silk and satin, smooth as velvet
Joanna, Mathilda and Jackie too
The girls from the streets how they love you
Shy, reclusive, perfectionism so quaint in vogue
Plastic Palace People hang out in awe
Jacque Brel knew you in Amsterdam when Joanna Loved Me
You talked about My Death as if the occurrence was imminent
Next time round you would be a mound of earth
Feeding off the land, soil, moisture, living
A truely breathtaking account of natures abundant wealth
But your time is now, Montague Terrace is beckoning, Jacque wants
a tenant
You are Next in line, The Sun Aint Gonna Shine Any More, my dear
But who needs light with your heavenly glow
Walker, Engel or brother alone
The stage is set, Scott 1st is born
FOR ANGELICA.
THE ODOURS OF LOVE
A Spiritual Experience Of The Forgiving Kind
Juniper smiles at the malevolent vision
Burn on, burn on, twinkle and mystify
Smokiest oak, cedar and candlelight
Will transform the patrons being
Floating upwards and beyond worldly existence
Levitating slowly, watery outline of the entity
Eye contact, fear and excitement
Look upon my face, what do you see
Shame, guilt, cowardice, so many burnt out emotions
Emotional extensions fill my weary mind
Forgive me of my wrong doings, I am truely sorrowful
The strange mirage of wisdom rises above
Juniper, lowly one of presence and purity
Banish these throbbing, nagging, inappropriate thoughts
I love thee, I will always love thee
I come before you, one last time
To rid you of the guilt and shame
That disfigures your beautiful body, that tortures your
marvellous mind
Juniper, mallow, majestic and mellowing
I worship and treasure you my sweetness
My time is now, I have to transcend, oblivion is beckoning
Quickly, press your tender lips to thine, oh perfect lilly of
Lavinnia
Juniper kisses, slowly the vision evaporates
She is left, smokiest oak, cedar and candlelight
THE ODOURS OF LOVE.
SKINHEAD BOY
A Night Out Circa 1995
Skinhead boy, brawn and brash
Tattooed arms, chest and tashe
Shaven head, eyes so cold
Levi jeans hang so bold
Harrington jacket fits to a tee
Doc Martens polished and shined for free
T. Shirt sporting his favourite band
Angelic Upstarts, The Jam, the best in the land
Wednesday night its down The Palace
He goes with his mates Biggy and Dallas
They down many a pint of bitter there
Then its on to the dance floor for a stomp and a stare
Dancing to Soul and the like
The skinhead boy clocks some fit broads, what bikes!
"Oi, Biggy, Dallas, come over here
Bring my jacket and my beer"
The boys proceed to chat the girls up
They, re called Mary, Tina and Brooke
The skinhead boy opts for Tina
Biggy and Dallas don’t mind either
Tina and skinhead boy in a passionate clinch
Biggy and Dallas come over and give him a pinch
"Its your round arsehole, get your wallet out
Two pints, two gin and tonics and crisps" they shout
Its three o, clock, The Palace has closed
"Come on, lets go back to my place" Dallas drones
They hail a cab and all pile in
Speeding down Camden Town, anticipating their night of sin.
NIGHT OF RECKONING
The Best Part Of Breaking Up(Is When Your Making
Up)
Darkness rears its ugly head
After the stinging truths we said
I lie awake confused and cold
After your revelations so cool and bold
Am I a pawn, am I a tool
Or worse than that, am I a fool
The latter I think is a tad too strong
But then again I could be wrong
The whirling thoughts remain all night
Attacking my sub conscious to the point of shite
I toss and turn with the hint of a scream
At the sheer turmoil of this agonising dream
I let out a yelp and your arms are there
Holding me closely you stroke my hair
You make a spoon and I slot inside
Your body a haven, so warm I cried
I close my eyes and see your face
I’m projected to inter planetary space
You speak my name, you smile so fine
I’m transported to a world of multi coloured wine
My mind is calm, I’ve settled a few things
The morning will probably cast a thousand new strings
What is important is here and now
So get on with it you daft, silly cow.
JIMMY, JIMMY
In My Eyes The Best Of The Bunch
Jimmy White is his name
Snooker is his beloved game
Each shot is played with skill and grace
And usually at a fantastic pace
First frames over and its in the bag
Now its back to his seat for a drink and a fag
Jimmy’s up first he’s raring to go
Takes the break and gets on with the show
Aims his cue and pots the red
Now he can clear up and put the rest to bed
Oh but wait, the cue ball has finished short
How will he get that black in, is everybody’s thought
Jimmy stands and studies the shot
Should he stun it in, chip it or what
The crowd goes silent, he pots it in
The applause is deafening, Jimmy gives a grin
He picks up his cue and waves to the crowd
They love him to bits and shout so loud
Your the greatest Jimmy, one fan drowns
That’s why he’s known as The Whirlwind From London
Town.