michael caine



it's the middle of the morning
when you woke me up
you kissed me with your legs wide open
and that bright light I saw
wasn't the sun

we're traveling
toward the day when you tell me
you're done
moving on.

we'll chat
and I'll tell you that I love you.
you tell me I'm great guy
and you'll close your legs
and move into the darkness

and when my lungs finally collapse
you won't be at my wake
and you won't be on my mind
you'll be someone's else blinding light

The engineers club of odessa


I was eight or nine.
I saw sviatoslav richter
perform his first recital
at the engineers club of odessa

it was long before the genius was crushed
by an unrelenting state
and an unloving mother
unable to push past their inherent flaws

and every so often
until the curtain finally fell on everything
I would slink into the back row
of the engineers club of odessa

and dream of talent and genius
hoping to see a glimpse of it again
maybe this time we'll just let it be
the road to middle management is littered with men with morgages

gottfried leibniz's lack of optimism

when I lost my mind
i used to dream in monologues
of endless walks
through crowded city blocks

and I when I lost my mind
there was no need for alcohol,
the unbalanced chemicals in my head
kept me in mired in self loathing

but I never felt so alive and raw
it must have been the pain
or the despair
take your pick

after this,
all the thoughts spoken
should have stayed
buried deep 

I'm sorry for it all
I'm living day to day
I got to admit it getting better 
Getting so much better all the time

Omar Khadr came home



I was broken by the lack of light
a confined space
a hood on my head

an orange jump suit
i was made to wear
on the way to my mock execution

when I was fifteen
I had a dream
where I was a carpenter

I didn't know where I was going
but I was going  to try to be a man
I will be a good son of god

And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation

and one day
I will be with you st peter at your no muslim allowed gate
I'll be the one with the hood, wearing an orange jumpsuit

you know, the one,
the dying empire
wants to blame

personal stalingrad


thirty six
walking past midnight
with no were to be
until six am 

it's dark
and all I have is my regrets
and a buzz that will end in forty five minutes
if I don't find more fuel for it

and like the germans retreating from stalingrad
I've been whipped by my own greed,
naivety and trusted the worst person I could find
and that is all on me 

and when I get back to the home front
it lies in ruins
and the locals
don't want to see me

so I'm walking past this neon lit gas station
with forty bucks in my pocket
at two thirty seven in morning
and if not for the boys

I'd be looking
for a place six feet under
no wonder I lost my mind
and why it's took so long to recover 






anglican thug life


I was raised by a pack of anglicans
who were constantly falling down
simply to get up again

and in that tumbling
a chorus
could be heard

I'm so sorry
I'm so sorry in my guilt
I never meant to hurt you

while all the while
we raped africa
and bombed dresden

and when ever I go into a church
my middle finger salute
rises up over my head

thine is the kingdom
and the power
and the glory

The young bruno bauer with his lady at loblaws

we're walking hand in hand
in sync, in step
smiling toothy grins
we seem to be floating
down the isles
past the pop and the beer
colours abound
functional food
packaged fish
frozen meet
sadly cellular automaton
will no longer do
two sets of chromosomes
walking hand in hand
no body could contain
the giddiness of us in awe
they say that joy can't be scientific
immanuel kant may disagree
but these feelings baby
seem to come from nowhere
it's probably the chemicals in our heads

Me you and our lies

we were walking on a another snowy night
and she said..
your lies are so big
you need a transit plan,
to simply get around them,  so I said

you're an coward in a bra
and you're becoming the poster girl of your mom
to uptight to enjoy life
and to lost in the joke
that is her "plans"

we walked past a church
where jesus saves
and jesus bent down
and whispered into my ear
"go ahead and kiss her, you don't know what your missing"

so I did and she said
you're not as clever as mark twain
but you're easy on the eyes
so give me another kiss
and tell me some more tall tales

well there was a corn field near trois-rivières
that used to sing in the rain
and now a box mall stands on the spot
and shits out carbon by the parts per million
crazy enough, its where I fell in love with you

Arthur Schopenhauer

I could sit here and nod
and look like I care
about what you're saying

can you sleep with that?
and if I fall at this point
will you still pick me up?

shall we dance in the living room again
maybe baby can we could walk danzig town
or head into berlin for the winter

but what's the point
throwing emotion
at something that's dead

I'm heading to the zoo
where universal compassion, even for the chimps
is the only guarantee of morality

and baby I lost all my morals
hanging out with you,
the girl without compassion

White Sugar



I know you're totally pissed when you cry
and somewhere in the back woods,
is a forgotten tree house

And once there was a desk
full of maps, pictures, your degrees and your plans
and now it's all in a storage locker somewhere in this town

I can see the alcohol in you hum
don't cry baby, 

there's still time


we'll find that treehouse and desk
your degrees and your plans
if it's the last thing we do




pop song

A clean snow fall.
As I walk across the parking lot towards my car,
the lone streetlight flickers off.

I make a wish.
I wish that this snow will never stop.
It buries everything deep.

And soon my footprints will disappear,
the only thing that remains
is a memory of where I've been.

I hit the light.
I turn left.
The radio chants another pop song.

You're just a memory my phantom friend
left behind with the tire tracks.
What's your name again?

the western front



driving at two am
with a bottle of rye in between my legs,
with another in reserve in the back seat,
without a mad mother in sight.

and with a granddaddy who watched his brother die at ypres,
and a daddy who bombed the rhine until it shone in the dark,
there's no king or empire with me tonight,
it's all cheap sentiment that ends in some poor bastards death.

all I have is a buzz that wishes that it would never end,
the apostle paul always travels with me,
as he does with those fleeing death in the suburbs of kabul,
from those who say they're there to liberate them

the western front is always around us and moving in

me, you and trois-rivières

We were walking this town
on a another snowy night
and she said
your lies are so big
they have suburbs of their own
and sub divisions full of fibs
you need a transit plan,
to simply get around

so I said
you're an asshole in a bra
and you're becoming the poster girl of your mom
to uptight to get the punchlines
and to lost in the joke
that is your bullet point life plan

we walked past a church
were jesus saves
and jesus bent down
and whispered into my ear
"go ahead and kiss her, you don't know what your missing"

so I did and she said
you're not as clever as mark twain
but you're easy on the eyes
so give me another kiss
and tell me some more tall tales

well there was a corn field near trois-rivières
that used to sing in the rain
and now a box mall stands on the spot
and shits out carbon by the parts per million
crazy enough, its where I fell in love with you

you in a brown coat

It may be a mid sized town
but it's too small a core of government cubicles
centrally located,
downtown,
not to walk past her time to time,
she were walking down bank street,
her coat was brown,
she may have been thinking about lipstick
or she could have been pondering a new place to eat lunch,
so I hid in a crowd on a corner,
next to a pharmacy,
waiting for the light to change,
it was raining
and I became another face
in another grey afternoon
but I know you saw me
you took a hard long look
I would have said something
but you've made it clear
so I crossed with the light
and had to laugh to myself
four years of naive sentiment
a complete metal breakdown
three years of chemical imbalance

two hard years of recovery
a very destroyed reputation
and a lifetime of recovery for being the fool



this is not a love song


I want to thank randy newman
for making that clear
I want to thank him
for simply stating the facts

It was pretty bright
up on the eddy street bridge
and when the cards were dealt
someone had to lose and someone had to jump

I used to run red lights
trying to get arrested
I pictured an angry mother wagging her finger
saying where's a cop when you need one

jesus spoke softly to me
never with malice or judgment
laying the foundation of redemption and rebirth
never a condemning word

I'm running now
I'm getting clean now
and standing outside this bar
wishing I could go in and quickly down a few

but the chemicals have been balanced
and I find myself swimming to the rescue boat
a decent lady offers me a cup of tea
I think this is ain't bad this ain't bad

wasn't that a head fuck?



It may been the gunter grass
could have been the seventeen drinks
but I kept thinking that I still loved you,
the mind is a dangerous thing 

I'm now sixteen miles from texas
twelve hundred from home
and I'm still stuck with you on the mind
I can't run away and I can't stay inside

it coming up to ten years 
and i know i can't go back
too many bridges blown up
too much spent on psychology

I know all the answers
and now to walk away 
this is just a personal lament
an inside joke

the of the head fuck. 

Dayton State of Mind


theoretical physics was never my specialty
bared from the uranium club of copenhagen
the chairman of the commission for atomic physics
wrote me saying he had no time for dyslexics

moving along, I fell in with a band of wolves
spreading a flawed brand of nuclear fusion
look at it glow, I would say with smile
this little rod is the loneliest of all spent materials

fraternal twins with duplicate snide comments
shouted me down and called me a fraud
they even published a paper at the universitat of leipzig
I left a discharged tenured professor

heinrich himmler was the head of the ss
he wanted to know about hilbert's theory of integral equations
so I sat him down and we talked over coffee about my future
and I asked him about the death camps and the v-one rockets

after the war I ended up in dayton ohio
teaching teens the basics of atoms
those kids are old now and making amends just as I once did,
and I'm dreaming more and more of the innocence of youthful summers

everything is easy, before you get caught up in it
the simplest pleasures are lost, as we move forward
evil is never in the surroundings of debate or ignorance,
it's found in our curiosity of the mysteries of science

Tout le kit

and this is the spot where I sat hollow.
empty after the worst nine months
of the first thirty four years
shipwrecked a thousand miles from water

and this is the road that took me back to sane.
full of pot holes, inquisitions and self loathing
in time the water drained
my feet touching ground

and that was the trek that led me back to who I was.
through the artic madness of  chemical imbalance
I probably gave up hope a few times but you never did
even though I gave you every reason to

you had my back
when no else did
I got lucky when you found me
I can't say thank you enough

ocd

it's two a.m again.
thoughts are like snowdrifts
and my skidoo is stuck, again
people, places

I'm six , I'm watching my dad hit my mom
I'm sixteen, I'm dropping some acid
I'm twenty eight, my son is being born
I'm thirty three. i'm cheating on my wife
I'm thirty eight, i've hit rock bottom

it's summer
1985
i'm playing midfield
i make a through ball
I kiss the girl, i score on a corner
she's leaving, her coat is gone
i'm falling , so this is what they mean tumbling
like a car crash,

when a second seems like an hour
the ocd is in charge,
it's 2 am again

the record is stuck, the record is stuck, the record is stuck

why i passed on your funeral

I think it's kinda of funny
that I've always loved the rain
must have been a survival strategy
to get through the storms

thunder and lighting
in the kitchen
up and down the stairs
into the living room

never blamed you
but now I know
it took a long time to get to this point
some women aren't victims

it's why I passed on your funeral
I gave up on you when I was twelve
it's the one lesson I'll pass on to my sons
some women aren't victims

even if they pretend to be