Here We Go Again!

The mostly lyrical musings of Kevin Mitchell et al, 9 July 1992 — 16 August 2005.


Bombed Out
Café Society

Down On The Farm
Dragstrip Guns


Keep Out Of MyFace

Private Eye vs. EastEnders

Rack, Stock & Pillory


The Call Of Cthulhu
The Official Aversion
Three Score Lengths And Ten




Waves of prejudice eminate
From my very being
Like pulses racing, yet unfelt
With nothing to check
Their cancerous spread

I am the epitome
Of malcontent to all
This world has borne me
Purposeful - evil intent
Or so you make me feel

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Reaching out through the gloom
transfixed by your feathered cap
(Once a mighty plume)
In a flash it comes
Then just as soon winks out
With no time for contemplation

It's always the same
Standing on the brink
Of universal understanding
In your presence
Only to have the magic carpet
Tugged once again from under my feet
By the forces that content themselves
In knowing that we will never be

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Rising midst crimson tide
Whiplash rapport from fingers' itch
Gratuitously men wander
Forth, then back to back
- Disarmed. Seconds out
With all time to spare
Leading untoward upsets
On the whim of language
Lightly blessed, bantered epithets

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The Official Aversion

You treat me like the idiot and not the savant
Entice me with your embodied mind
You can bandy with words, call it what you want
Searching for what you'll never find

But you're just another whore to me
A s sure as your night follows my day
The ever lengthening shadows you cast
Are going to chase my dreams away

And when my mind's been blown apart
Oh demagogue so divine
The role embraced - that which you've become -
Will convince me that everything's fine

But you can't dry my eyes
With your tissue of lies
And that saccharine smile
And your velvet voice
A non-discerning choice
You'd better change your style

Dressing like fashion's a four-letter word
I'd better not count on you
But you always require with some elegant style
That I partake in the things you do

Yet what abuse lies behind such ruse?
Do you really expect me to believe?
Whenever I enter your exclusion zone
You have to ask me to leave

And when my mind's been blown away
Oh demigod so supreme
You creep into my slumbered soul and
Your nightmare begats my dream

But you can't build me up
With your lips on my cup
D rinking down my life
You can't disguise the fact
It's just part of your act
Creating endless strife

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The Call Of Cthulhu

I'm travelling down the road
Of those who've passed before
Like a sinner in their footsteps
To the call of The Lord

And to the pipes I dance
Wending, sweet is the tune
That draws unto His heart
Each wretched cast down soul

Yes I'm travelling down the road
To the tune of my sweet Lord

Although the path I lead adorns
Death's shadow darkened vales
I see only pastures green
Bathed in His glowing aura

The light, righteous and pure
Guiding beacon so true
That creation's milliard sins
Be renounced by waters still

And the way tonight I ride
Is radiant in His light

And when my journey ends
The truth at last I'll know
Not that Begot of man
But absolute and golden

By His side I'll sit
For a moment, as His son
Then partake of those
Amassed sharing in the joy

And when my journey ends
I'll be sharing in His joy

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Dragstrip Guns*

Shakin’ out on Six-Ways
When the day came a-crawlin'
I’d like to see his hands
But he never takes his gloves off

Just me and Billy drivin’in an old grey Ford
Just talks about the old days and the home runs never scored
White-knuckle ride up to the sky

Dragstrip guns
Dragstrip guns
C’mon everybody we’re the last solid gone pair
Dragstrip guns
Dragstrip guns
Let’s hear it for the good time ‘cause the bad times are gone

Killin’ may be natural
And tramps they sure can run
Some dream for motivation
But we’re born to burn

*With assistance from Darren Knott & Paul Welsh

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She strips for money
People think it’s funny
How a talent can go to waste like this
She glides across the floor
There’s always screams for more
As she spreads her legs, bends low and blows a kiss

Now the show is over
And all the men go home to their wives
So the stripshow rover
Goes back to lead her normal life

Give me the glow of the red light burning
Give me the sighs of ecstatic yearning
Give me the moment
Give me the feeling
You’ve got the power to set me reeling

Fantasies harbour
In the meat-grind parlour
Lean back in the seat and let your mind do the rest
This is the meat market
Welcome, come and park it
Let’s all watch the stripper ‘cause she can do it best

*With assistance from Darren Knott & Paul Welsh

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Three Score Lengths And Ten

When it's time to get up
But you don't feel like moving
And you mind's been twisted
By everybody's grooving
And nobody's there
With words that are soothing
And though you might be winning
You feel like you're losing

Your grip - slipping
The thread - snipping
The sound - sheer as the face
Like music - tears
Revealing the seething mess within
The tumultous paradox of your sin
And amidst all this floating squalor
You're expected to swim
To keep yourhead bobbing
Above the bubbling briny
Swirling mass: that's life buoy!

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Rack, Stock & Pillory

Above all others
Is How I hold you
And if only I could I would
But with every passing hour
You hate the idea more
And the guilt
Oh how it weighs me down
Flattens me 'til I am laid out
Before you as the jewels of my little kingdom
What worth on them to you who'll never be my queen?

May the daily fading western light
Prove not to be the eternal setting of my own sweet Juliet
Yet it dawns on me that there can be no turning back
Too long have our paths traced routes of mutual isolation
The harsh winter bares its teeth, breathing down my slender neck
And I feel so cold

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I just want to throw my arms around you
And hug you and snap you out of it

But I can't because I Know not what 'it' is
Only that it's with you and haunts your every hour
Feeding off you, as you do off others - to recoup

In a trance like state, at the trough you kneel. Oblivious
If the world were to end this very instant
(For me, I feel it already has)
You would suffer no pain
Simply merciful release from the shame I bring to bear
A stigma of my weaker moments in this life

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Bombed Out

Can you see that horns are growing from my head?
Do you know the things I dream of in my bed?
If `no', then why the screaming Stukas of your hate
Falling from my sky?

Quite a crater creator
Little beknown to those beyond the barricades
Those cordons you throw up every day
To keep the riff-raff element
You purport me to be at bay

Do you think of me, each time as you shell out
As the diligent spider climbing up your spout?
If so, then how can you justify that demeaning glint
That twinkles in your eye?

It just doesn't wash
Still you ebb and flow and take me out
With glad tidings
Only to leave me high and dry, though oh, so low

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Down On The Farm

Black man: we who fought so hard to emancipate you from the bonds of slavery
Must now, with all our might, renew the fight
To free you from the chains of the fast-food restaurants
It's not your only hope
No it's not your only hope
So please don't mope
Or be the dope they make you out to be
And that you sell to us

And if you rhink this is bad, just wait for what's around the corner
Smack, bang! Into the wall of hate
Read from the white and blue minds out to underwhelm you

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Café Society

Café society: denizens of impropriety
Not gods almighty
People, they may come
And people, they may go
But some faces never change

Stir it in
Another sweetener to pass the time
To fill your day
- That yawning chasm of inertia
Surely it wouls swallow you
Hole and all
Should you ever attempt to raise the interest rate
That which has kept you cosy
Confined under the velvet cosh of indifference
But it's somewhere to meet
And if you can ignore the bleating
You really might enjoy it enough
To want to try it
You say you don't like what they're selling
But I don't buy it
We've all been there somewhen in our lives
To escape from whence 'kettle black calling' thrives
Gone to pot

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Private Eye vs. EastEnders

In Memorium of Leslie Grantham's final exit from Albert Square.

So. Farewell
Dirty Den

Finally laid to rest by
Your wife

"'Ello Princess"
That was your catchphrase

Now you are

Keith's mum says it would have been
More ironic
If your killer were
Charlie Slater

With apologies to E.J. Thribb (17½ viewers)

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The mark she overstepped
The Rubicon he crossed
The pale they went beyond
Ensured all wasn't lost

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Keep Out Of MyFace

Little girls with fluffy toys
And cute designs on little boys
Don't tell us all that you're eighteen
When your room's the most you've seen
The world at large is waiting where
You never even gave a care
Or second thought for folk like me
In your ageist minority
Safe at home on your PC
Condemn interactivity
And all else that doesn't fit
In the kingdom where you are 'It'
You'd hunt us down like Logan's Run
If you thought it would be fun
But honey I've got news for you
One day you're gonna be old too!

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This page © Kevin Mitchell, 2010.