Ride The Snake
Badly Drawn Boy

—Once Around The Block


Badly Drawn Boy - Once Around The Block - Hour Of The Bewilderbeast

What a track!


Don’t break a box!
Break THE box
Burn the walls
Fire the thunder
Rain clouds appear, don’t stand under
I am wander
I am wonder.

If any of my followers looks/sings like Kate Bush, can I marry you please?

If any of my followers looks/sings like Kate Bush, can I marry you please?

(Source: musicisagif)

Little Commoner

A commoner
A commoner
A dirty little commoner
A commoner
A little fucking commoner
A commoner.

Left unwashed, mashed, strapped of cash
Born lashed, ready to blast, life turned to ash
Can’t afford uni, only juvey, 
Fast tracked from the slum to the slam
Stripped from a human to ham
Born to die, reared for slaughter
It’s funny how little faces can haunt ya.

A commoner
A commoner
A dirty little commoner
A commoner
A little fucking commoner
A commoner.

Like a rod and a fish
A mission begins with a vision
This kid is gloomy in his “loony” room in Hulme
But he’s just human, fuming from this system
The rich get richer and the poor get ordered
The poor are tortured
They’ve torched the orchids
But be careful Tory
Weeds will grow and they’re looking for seeds
See, we all came from the sea
So all plants can bleed
Dreaming, bleeding
Crime and stealing
Futile kneeling, this boy needs feeding.

A song that never sleeps
Until we are free.

A commoner
A commoner
A dirty little commoner
A commoner
A little fucking commoner
A commoner. 

(Source: Spotify)

An Old Dawn But a New Dusk

Awake from snoring, quick warning
I’m a big fish on a thick dish
Petri-dish with a wish, I’m forming
Ready for haunting, pitchforks sharpening, ready for hunting
Modern-day Frankenstein, a fiend, misunderstood creature, welcome to the freak show

Curtains open, the curious cat leaves home and -
Returns to it’s throne above the sands now home to drones
Ore and stone reveal the danger zones
In the artist’s hands, tanks paint the land and the papered-glass burns to sand
Life and death now turn the sands
Time and space was formed by hands
And these paper books ruled by man

We need help, they need a hero
Where the hell did that guy (called) God go?

Turn the page it’s a new day
The sun’s shining, blinding but i’m finding it’s rays are grey
Sharp eyes, tight ties, they’re too busy to see where the hobo lays
Under the shadow of the tower invisible to the demon’s gaze, fires ablaze
Soulless suppliers liase
Pompous pricks blowing money with no worry, they’re not sorry, so high they’re starry
And who’s in charge of this funny little country?


In the depths of alternation there’s a cave
And in Brixton there’s dirty little drug raves 
Faces sweating, hair quiffed, sides shaved
Angry reflection from rejection
In an instance incidents are raised,
Fuck is phrased, fights are then phased, no one cares
Innocent eyes are glazed
Awful house tunes and it’s a full moon
But it’s 2014 who gives a fuck anyways

So this is what I do, write lyrics, share stories
Scrawl metaphors some similes and
Try to enlighten and piss off a few
And I’m lookin at you, you and you, happy in the charts,
You’re like grabbing art,
Rubbin a rubber an crumplin one after another
To throw in a fire, you’re a liar, I’m tired, get “Aaliyard”, retire
I’m sayin you ain’t a musician so what the fuck do you do?
Doing music for people who don’t like it
Infuses a fume, and I’m loony like a toon
The song drops and
The dread drops dead like a lead balloon
My logic’s tombed
Has the end come too soon?

The war-cry of warriors in the forest, the beginnin
It’s not human nature they’re fibbin
I’m beginnin to drown in this linen, I’m fittin
An old baby is born again today, it’s splittin
It’s cry is the remnants of what remains
See it’s this thing we retain, inside of this chest
Expression is bliss, please don’t resist
My heaven’s inside of this riff
You’re on the edge of cliff and you need a lift,
Listen to this beat and realise I’m with.

This world’s a pearl, people want it
But the true pleasure is to see it in it’s shell at the seaside
At nature’s side, see
We’re products of life, not of time
We’re products of life, not of time.

Permanent Transience

I am him

I am her

For millennia , a second, one hour

A seed, a weed, a flower

Resolve, evolve

But is growth power?

Time to shower in time

This same damn rain between

This same fine line -

So what really is mine? 

A Popular Carousel Doesn’t Mean It’s the Best

When it all started in 92
I was born a baby
Lust for love
Days were sunny, none of them were rainy
After a short interlude
I’m nearly 22
Standing strong
Hair long
I finish uni in a month
Then what do I do?
I’m looking at you, you and you
A few more beers then you’ll do
By the window
Light the tinder
Get a match, get attached and
Smoke away 
Everything is cheery
In the light of the day
The moon reveals cracks, stress stacks
Get fed up, begin to quit, use a patch
Pattern the papers, move out, change the latch.
But a baby is all part of this crazy mis-match

Don’t worry fuzzy bunny
Here’s the catch
Love is lost and it is found
The carousel still spins
The earth is still round
So please don’t feel down
I’ll explain it all when you’re grown

You’ll learn for yourself when you’re grown.

But for now it’s 2014
Enjoy your Disney throne
My pretty little queen.

The "Black" Collection

  • Gonna release a collection of poetry called "Black" soon, I really hope you'll love it!


My words are careful
My intentions are sure
The snowflake on a tired rose
Every time it arose
And every time it felt frozen
At night I was closed up
From the toes up
Became a ghost of the past
Dwelling on the present
Life is for living 
So let us fucking live it.

The eyes of a wanderer
The mind of a traveler
The thirst of Buddha
The hunger of a scavenger
Knowledge is power
But is love the lost flower?
Am I sour?
A coward, frightened of firewood
Above the pot there’s a clock

Life is found
and it is lost
The mountains
The sun, moon
The stars
The art in every part
From the very start
When it peels it won’t heal
            Please remember that my painter
Your brush is your lust
My trust is your fuss
My presence is your prison
Division’s your vision
Please enjoy the ride,

Until your handlebars rust.

Kate Bush - Army Dreamers - Official Music Video

I am majorly crushing Kate Bush again. I reject the reality that she’s 55. Owhhhh, I wish she was 30 years younger and fancied blonde, long-haired poets.

Life's harshest irony

  • Why does such ugly emotion create beautiful writing?
"Sulking Stairs"

"Sulking Stairs"

Beyond the Bonds of this Chaotic Pond

Beyond the Bonds of this Chaotic Pond

Everyday infection moves in silence
Like gonorrhoea
Lucid dreaming, am I gone or here?
Enraged happiness,
Beautiful sadness
This stoned rose is living
But I’ve still got the fear.

—PyramidPoetry: Drugs and Earthly Confusions