that drunken bloke was....

One minute you are wiffling in your capsule
things are getting a bit grim
the smile is wearing a bit thin
things not working out
people not pedalling fast enough
mental jumping up and down won't force the octagonal peg
i'm not disappointed in myself...
darn darn darn
then, bokko
let's make the most of the host
some white line fever
some gangrene hunters
a big ole bag of blah blah blah
not to be confused with rant rant rant
or sit right down and whittling away-* at chairlandia
when did everything become so bearable?
that funny side wasn't visible before
those were flailings
not necessarily failings....
here comes the bride
all dressed in helmut
playing luv thy neighbour
yootha more teeth (and glug glug)than most people
george more cardigan (and comb over) than most people
no racist stereotypes out of this rampart of goodness
no fish and chip bitch from ipswich
although there is a Bob from Billericay

hey there,
what's you name?
consider yourself serenaded

so the savior shows his pretty face
gets out his pretty tummy
and before you can say 'faisel is a key religious figure in Islam'
the scenery swims and modestly changes just outside your line of sight
who is this man?
this bar was never so broad
floundering over furry tables
and it's off to the tired old philosophy shop for a new 'un
life changing moments may happen
someplace else
to some bodies unknown
make decision and put your sorry corpse up for crucifixion
stick by your hum guns
wear the scorn with a foolish grin
that drunken bloke was her!
that drunken bloke was me!
as there may just be a two headed love beast just outside
or there may just not ...