Portrait of a Piss-Artist

Find it hard to be understated

When there’s four million people in this town

Though the world still turns

My heart still yearns for you…

And that’s a sickly rhyme

but these are sickly chords

it’s 2010, not 1954

and you don’t understand

what it means to be a man these days

I saw you smile in the moonlight

As we queued up for a cig

I said alright, you motioned for a light

and we threw ourselves into the arms of the night

http://soundcloud.com/joshnaymedici/05-moonlight

England, my heart was never in it

England, the rose was never mine

England, the seas are cold and open

England, the pen is dry

England, Byron is a rogue.

England the poppies seem so cruel

England whose veterans aren’t remembered

England, whose depths I’ll never know

England, whose manners hide our desires,

England, the silence is unnerving,

England, the farmyards and the hedgerows

England, the battle outside raging

England, the smoke upon the Irwell

England, the rabbit’s out the hat

England, the bittersweet stench of freedom

England, the cat’s out of the bag

England the tainted crown and kingdom

England, the core is rotten

England, the name that people died for

England, the national front

England, the spin and England the lies, and England the dreams of marmalade skies.

England, you that you’re no good,

England, they want to reign us in,

England, the job seekers are rising

England, I’m talking to myself again.

- Joshua McClurg, Naymedici