Mark left a beautiful black trilbee and a note pad behind on saturday night after the L.A.B. gig...i found some verses to one of the brand new songs he's working on with *the Bitch* think it's called *Wrecking Soul*(he's spelt it sole then crossed it out then sol then etc etc) :
"Can't fill the hole as black as coal deep in a pit annihilation fits
Can't believe it i can't believe it or fill the hole or RECONSOLE
Today i cried twice all over those bad things today i cried twice all
over those bad things all over those bad things
Can't fill the hole as black as coal deep in a pit annihilation fits
Can't believe it i can't believe it or fill the hole my wrecking soul"
there's a bunch of other stuff here but maybe i should post the pad back to that address in Clapham Common..
Ian Curtis had his "Love Will Tear Us Apart"
Billie Holiday her "Strange Fruit"
I know the above lyric and if Mark is finally thinking of recording this song i'd be concerned for him, you know what the rest of the lyric is about,H?
uppers and downers in 4 brown down 4 white powder and bone couldnt leave it alone lights out tonight this is my home. miss a wedding miss a funeral miss a birthday miss the dancehall miss the things i miss the most as time filled up and sank my boat. and now i daydream bout un marked cars-kind that go real fast no st george's cross they're sittin ducks 2be reassigned by the e.r.a. i trust the rape of all professions white collar silver dollar i do profess an innarest in cutting off our old queens head it'd spare me no displeasure-i reside at her bleedin majesty's leisure. full moon eclipse i close my lips i done time 4 the terra the firma heaven and thats ch ien in chinese-its dog in french ya know..heaven is a place wit 2 dimensional images of kate moss and her bredthren on the walls. or maybe i mean hell.
its lonely in here 2.
god bless - old i know but more appropriate right now than youd care 2 imagine.
im bored with us
im bored with a
im bored with the fucking usa
im bored with us
im bored with a
im bored with the fucking usa
i pray
spare me their infantile culture
bang bang pop pop
have bonnie and clyde got ya?
see its all true romance and early graves
cowboys and indians
white men and slaves
and yes..
they will love you when youre dead
no longer a threat
but while youre alive you wont make any bread
because..
the only good artist is a dead artist, right?
by mark hammerton
(well...this is a *LAM* not *LAB* forum afterall!!)
the boywas in the hallway drinkin a cp of tea...yes i'm listenin to it right now......
.......
i want to go out like aldous huxley
not malcolm x
tho my father died a very fucking violent death
c'est la vie mon ami
thats the way it goes
white line straight line flat line
it's all the fucking same
blood line power line poverty line
it's all the fucking same
one thing i know 4 sure
it won't be by my hand
look what i given up let meself understand
you cum round here
wiv a can of beer
well i miss the things
thqat held me dear
and closeto death
and on the edge
there ain't no relief from this slippery ledge
woe is me
fuck yr sym[athy
this is a version
of my new reality
t capacity (and thats Carlos Castanada)
woe is me im self obsessed i take a pamphlet off yr desk and read it
as i walk the ledge self help oh yeh really gets me off my head...
heard the din
im cashin in
heard something
im cashin in
knew someone
im cashin in
used someone
im cashin in
oh yeah
got the money-
the paper
children
got the papers
good lawyer
a sharp suit
get away with murder
mayhem
if i want
whos got the biggest mouth?
whos got the foul breath?
whos gunna die next?
im cashin in/whos gunna die next?
whos gunna make this world
better?
makin mo money
paper
grease and paper
oi
l
abandon all who enter in
hope abandon all who enter in
chasing a bad reputation
burning up with anticipation
cant wait to
too long 4 sensation
praying 4 a little patience
waiting 4 the 1st signal
first light/sign
out of this ditch
into the line
line of fire
cant wait
you long 4 sensation
evry fibre knowing
tempatation.
Last night I was awakened by someone rattling the door handle
I was almost dreaming that it was you
all disheveled
all beautiful eyes
I wrap you
in warm blankets
possession is nine-tenths of the law
In a parrallel world
I am the soldier and you are the king
I get wounded every time you breath in
I am your lungs and you are my index finger
I paint a picture but words only linger
On we go now I am a whore
And i wouldnt write this unless i was bored
Of getting it wrong every time we sing
The words of the man who was once a king
But you make your bed and only you jump in
So why make it in the first place?
Yeah you make your bed and only you jump in
A king who has fallen from grace
Now a boy with a one night stand
And no one to hold his hand
Except a soldier, some lungs and a whore
Surely its becoming a bore?
So Retrace your steps now and remember
.....there is so much more.