fuck it

i love you i love you. jamie t, back of the crown. sleeping alone, no phone, no keys, want to be, need to feel, on my mind, meet me here, never tearful, frightful cold. could be broken, could be taken.

Repost of a failed post

• Repost from yesterday night, internet is hard to come by here in suffolk. But it's all okay as it's replacement is a lush landscape of agricultural beauty. Busking is difficult to begin but the locals are extremely casual about the experiences. Big up, hahaha.

This Sleepy Town

I've seen a place,

 in those far off fields,

 where the sun sets down,

 the sky gently peels,

Away from that,

 a darkness does grow,

 lit by the lunar,

 the stars gently sowed,

The clouds soon drift,

 the abyss engulfed,

 like falling above

 and a problem solved,

For buried 'neath,

 those lonesome hazes,

 a memory stands,

 all seen, all ages.

And yet I would to question this senile place,

 of what it all was before.

Instead as I pass from this land to space,

 I need not take no more,

Somewhere beneath,

 a cavern has grown,

 of it's intention,

 I remain unknown,

The walls are black,

 it's dripping with sage,

 pumped up for above,

 to burn in this age,

To think these creatures gave us breath,

 and where they stink and rot and bile,

We percieve a tube to ravish them through,

 a grave unearthed and vile,

I see it's good,

 but there seems no sense,

 to dig up graveyards,

 build a body fence,

When the sunset,

 so enlightens me,

 that i could again,

 feel warm energy.

Up in the stars,

where we will soon be,

run all alone by,

electricity,

And all forget,

 the breeze through the trees,

 the forest and leaves,

 and the ancient aged sunset.

Koki Downs

Man that was a cool session. I don't think I've enjoyed writing so much as during that poem.

Tour's going awesome, awesome, awesome. My wallets in agony.

I'm also starting to dread the whole, coming back to a job and no house thing. let's see how semi permanent this touring business can be. Get a driving license is the next quest guys.

Speaking of legendary quests, the title was indeed a reference to the Kokiri Forests of Links grands adventures. If you didn't guess that, get back to your N64s, you slackers!

peace and harmony from Kandaa

I owed it to the establishment

I used to celebrate in my music a life of luxury, I used to condone a sense of nonchalance, and hold a disdain for a government that I had assumed only stood to repress and profit from its population.

 I fought a free education,
I bought into a drug occupation,
Held into a love complication,
And suffered a internal hallucination,

 I pushed out what I felt within,
Replaced it with a vagueness of fitting in,
I tried to banish thoughts with vitamins,
Forgot who I was and where Id been,

 I tried to market myself and soul,
Living by the backstreets wishing on the doll,
I compared the electorate to a dose of rohypnol,
Living by the moonlight singing for the new sol,

 I owed it to the establishment,
To push out what I thought should of passed in parliament,
Can't call it much of food for thought, thought of nourishment,
More a teenage angst fantasy, and middle aged harassment

 I bought into jealousy,
If it wasn't cool then it certainly wasn't me
I made sure to stay away from things like the tv,
Can't blame me for the outcome of the things I'd never tried to see,

 Well I smoked for the sake of smoking,
Much more just for looks to outweigh the pain of choking,
So that when i'm puffing down the street I'm definitely hoping,
Someone would think I'm trending Indy, don't think I'm even joking,

 I slowed it down to perfect the storm,
But when plucked with this much bitterness these strings get pretty heavy worn,
And now I look back without the emotion of the forlorn,
I can see it pretty clearly now that I stood to be the fucking pawn,

 I owed it to the establishment,
To push out what I thought should of passed in parliament,
Can't call it much of food for thought, thought of nourishment,
More a teenage angst fantasy, and middle aged harassment


 It's frustrating you can't edit the style and colour of text on the iPad version of this site. fuck you apple.
It's frustrating I had to write this twice because minimising this page on an iPad deletes the page content. FUCK YOU APPLE!!

 I'm posting this (again) because of a lovely message from a friend of mine who's blog I follow. Link to come on tabs up top. I never realised that's what pages were on blogger..

 So what's new?
 I'm going on a uk tour. A friend of mine came up with the idea because he takes his music very seriously and he going places with it, I can't say that I wasn't proud of him. Tim OT. Check him out. And if you like it follow the tour man and check his page  www.Facebook.com/timotacoustic . We're going north south and around, I can only remember Banbury festival as being booked.
Also I got a new Facebook music page, link on tabs at the top.

 Not Going Out. amazing show, watched it for aaaages before the third series eventually assembled itself. But good show!
Oh and the big bang theory.

Thank god for school friends

You Speak Poetry

That's a quote, not a title

Here's to this guy for inspiring the verses below.

So here's to Jack
He was a busker who played his strings with slack,
And he'd exhaust his mentalities when he came out in rap,
And if a passer were to pay him for sharing his crap,
He'd throw the pennies at their feet say "You can have your money back,"

So here's to Sue,
She was an artist who painted the news,
They'd report it she'd create it with stencils and glues,
And when she was finished and there was nothing else to add that was new,
                                                                               She had a model of a theory of what a human should
                                                                               do,

So here's to Dave,
He was a hero who thought of the lives that he'd save,
When he booked up and paid for his course in first aid,
But he didn't see the irony in hoping and praying,
That a kid would get knocked down in the course of his way,


So here's to Jim,
He's an alcoholic, that's him,
He doesn't care for much except his bottle of gin,
But who's to say he's wrong when he's so happy in sin,
Hell I'd ask him but he never really did much of that talking




So many faces, so many names
So many people playing different games,
It's hard to remember which side I'm on


So many faces, so many names,
So many that they all seem the same,
And yet there's no emphasis on individual opinion,




So back to Jack, three years later now he's bored of the slack,
He tightened up his strings and pulled his vocal shit back,
Now he's barely recognisable when he comes out in rap,
He doesn't want to be a rapper he wants to be a democrat,


Now back to Sue, three years later she's moved onto the blues,
Figured an artist painting music, that you can't really lose,
She'll even throw in juxtapositioning by painting in red hues,
As it's less controversial, it's all become dead news


Now back to Dave, three years later got his own kids to raise,
Gotta protect them from bad shit like drugs drinks and razor blades,
He could protect them as he's qualified in first aid,
But hows he gonna do that gotta feed with the work he slaves,


Jim, three years later, still on the gin,
But now he's hanging in the gambling halls, he figures he'll win,
But he never really does, his wallet's anorexic thin,
So he's picking up his next hit from the bottom of a council bin,