Cardinal Caldera

A man wiser than me
Said all you need to be happy
Was a garden and a library
And though he was wiser than me
And though he lived happily
Had he never heard of an iPod or some good company?

Oh this thing's going Krakatoa
Once the moratorium's over
I'll see you in the mausoleum
With bleeding ears and
Lava-smattered lips

Stares at his Bosch triptych
Feels the magma beneath his feet switch
And erupts through the walls in fits
He was so preoccupied
He forgot to give up and die
Finally left the planet last week at the back of the 49

Chorus

And all the island's natives
Are charred but truck on unabated
Waiting for the next big bang
Appendage at the side of their faces
Staring into blank spaces
Considering............... the......................................space

Chorus
Oh this things gonna up and explode
Watch as it drops its load
Indiscriminatley, you'll see,
i'll see you in the morgue and/or bar

Green

Stop sign, cutting chattering teeth
I'm slipping down an alleyway so please lose sleep
Uncommon faults, in common friends
In their rooms, playing pretend

At the school gates, I rolled up all grown
Forever i'll know, heading is my home
Waddle then shuffle then slip the knife
As we brush shoulders, walking into the night

And walking off, the ripper catching up
It's not the blood on his shirtsleeves says he hasn't been good
It's the stray of scent, the absence of breath
Now there's nothing left, this is not what he meant for

Oh here comes a sense of dread
Oh here comes a neckless head
So run away with snap happy legs
Back to a familiar secure homestead
Run away run away run away run
Grow up and fall under feminine thumbs
Oh where oh where does this torrid tale begin?
With me a socially inept penguin

Oh here comes a sense of dread
Oh here comes a slit cut crimson red
So limp away with a broken leg
Back to a haven where I hopefully fear to tread
Run away run away run away run
And fall through the town under feminine thumbs
Oh where oh where does this torrid tale end?
With me a socially inept friend

She, she'll know my step on the stairs
She's weary from starting fires
So head down and stay quiet
this is the last fire, this is the last
Fire the last fire fire fire fiya

Oh here comes a sense of dread
But we've misplaced the murderous intent
And all the things we did and all the things we said
They're coming back to me

-Chreeees, Thom

Anchorline Goodbye

I know it's too late to moor the boat so I'll let if float downstream
We kept moving like nothing would satisfy,
Though we creaked and crumbled you can't say I didn't try
All down the line, the cabling is laden with goodbyes
All of the time, the anchorline is laden with goodbyes

The streaks on the water toss and turn
between the stars and the land my trembling hand holds the rope
I do not understand, the morning will eventually find me I hope

Embedded in my mind some prince or president
Whilst a murmuring drunk awaits carrion's descent,
This vile ocean will not relent,
The only good to come will have to be heaven-sent

It's too late to get her back
I know she won't come back

Tonight the sailor men have found me,
the cuckolded husband of Lilly Langtry
They told me not to fight or worry
Pulled me away from the gantry
I could hear the mocking of the ebbing saltwater sea
Just put me in the brig, throw away the key

Circling over the shipwreck and sewage
The pounding notion that I just blew it

Its too late to get her back
I know she won't come back

She has admiration and currency,
Princes, Presidents at her feet
All her pretty dresses and jewellery
All those ends that I could never make meet

All I have is what's in my head now,
the bittersweet taste of alcohol
All I have is what's in my hands now
is nothing
Nothing

Take your hands from the precipice they said,
With a stomach like yours you will end up dead,
The sooner the better I replied
now the harbour lights are attracting swarms of flies
The iron girders and the creaking planks
Was never my idea of picturesque romance
I've had my chance, and I know she won't come back,
Barnacles just don't suit and aristocrat
LILLYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!

But I know she won't come back,
even if she ends up in the gutter it'll be a better place for her than here,
even if she ends up on her back, well
It'd be a better place for her

-Chreeeees, Thom

No Ice

Deconstruct fragmented slog
Analysis in the epilogue
From beyond the grave these wicked ways
Car crashed while memory recapped better days
Will away those flaky feelings
Fend them off up to the ceiling
Don’t know what it is I’m needing
Caffeine fuel for histrionic healing
Purge every word from every pore
Purge everything from every pore
With a subtlety soft as meteors
Cos I aint coming round here any more
Talking loud and saying nothing
Cos I aint coming round here no more
Talk with conviction say anything

You know why you still do not know why

Wrapped up trapped in complex ideologies
you can’t see you’ve got a good thing going here
regardless of what you actually thought important
These words are the flotsam
The frothy leftover trend
All these words are the flotsam
The Swell the bend the means the end
With every ebb and flow
With every to and fro
With all the bouncing bombs caught in a double helix
that’ll learn ya
hopefully that’ll learn ya
Translate it into grunts
Mark urgent and go ugh
Ugggggghn nem nem

You know why you still do not know why

It is how it is cos that’s how it is
The curtain shivered as I threw down my written winter
No Ice

You know why you still do not know why

Methods of transport and wrapping up warm shoved down your throat
Cuddling on the dawn train, ignoring on the homeward plane
Tumbling down the biggest slope
From Iceland to Thailand to Germany
Confound foreigners with senses of irony
Life love death birth
Feed us more mirth
Bad good yes no
Ebb flow to fro
ME
I’ll save the other transcontinental stories for when I actually have some
Concepts left part of me bereft and dead but I’ll have a resurrection
And then I’ll holler
‘Crucify me
I haven’t got a clue
I’m worse than the original
I’m Jesus version 2’

You know why you still do not know why

-Thom, Chreeees

La Vie Avant Moi

Dans ma vie passée j'étais Reynaldo né Hahn au-dessous de brûler la fin du soleil de 1870s Caracas mes yeux maintenant que je suis sur les rues parisiennes avec tous les shysters chassant les oies sauvages faisant des affaires si rapide elle me frappe outre de mes pieds je rencontre mon ami Marcel et nous faisons des contrats mauvais Mais toute l'heure où vous restez vers le haut dans votre volume d'écriture de chambre après que volume après que volume après que le volume regardant quelque chose change elle ainsi l'arrêt avec les erreurs et les glissades freudiennes J'entends parler d'une guerre de morue au nord par les rivages étrangers que j'ai obtenu la crainte d'une guerre de morue ici j'entends parler d'une guerre de morue ils l'appellent Þorskastríðin ainsi entrez-moi dans se cachant moi ne peut pas combattre I'ld sautent des fossés et dans les pages d'une nuit de booksmart I'ld écrivent le fils et les lumieres sans soin dans le monde sans soin pour les filles françaises chaudes Mais toute l'heure où vous restez vers le haut dans votre volume d'écriture de chambre après que volume après que volume après que le volume regardant quelque chose la change ainsi l'arrêt avec les erreurs et les glissades freudiennes saisissent quelques nouvelles idées et saisissent votre arrêt de manteau étant si gnostique et viennent un certain extérieur d'endroit Dans notre mid-20s à la fin du siècle l'OH me portent à Conbray, l'OH me portent au pays de Conbray plein de la chlorophylle mon vieil ami qu'elle a mes yeux et nous devrions la voir Vous pouvez seulement pêcher des poils hors de votre café de tapis pour ainsi long Marcel ainsi prennent une coupure et viennent hors de sorti avec moi, à la français Vous, vous êtes mes chloris que nous tandis que loin les heures de printemps dans les forêts comme seulement des Français voudraient seulement des amoureux devraient Mais toute l'heure où vous restez vers le haut dans votre volume d'écriture de chambre après que volume après que volume après que le volume regardant quelque chose la change ainsi l'arrêt avec les erreurs et les glissades freudiennes saisissent quelques nouvelles idées et saisissent votre arrêt de manteau étant si gnostique et viennent un certain extérieur d'endroit avec moi à la français Et tout ce qui est dit de l'ambroisie ne touche pas mon imagination aux dépens des charmes dans vos yeux

-Thom

Pop at Plebian Fop Pop

Lazy agnostics that fly no flag
Ok you'’re unsure but at least take a stab
Couldn't imagine living a life so drab
Not again I already put up with that crap

The floor was the wall of my vessel as I wrestled
With those thoughts fleeting ones entered forevermore
Like you build a cityscape with 6 wires and tear it down with 4
Was obsessed with my palimpsest thought process

But all the noisy sixth form English self deprecating existential torpor and
Teenage angst
Will never shift as much
As unverbose benign romance

So I'm acquiescence to say
I'’m acquiescence to say
I'’m giving in and I'm saying I love you

In

Perhaps Reykjavik
Where the days melt into nights
Perhaps in romanticised Reykjavik
Everything'’ll be alright [x2]

The slush, the snow, the twilight glow,
The ice, the coves, the cigarillo smoke,
My face, your face, falsetto,
Dead days, dark nights, watch them grow

Your scent courses through the reverby wind
Through mono speakers birdsong is piped in
I cannot leave but who would want to?
I cannot breathe but who would want to?

They'll be 10 more hours in limbo
'Til the moonlight bounces off my bruises
Sponges all my skin
Leaves me a little less stupid

And then I'll see you under bubbling electronics
With not one mention of my half baked sonnets
Fully healed all thanks to you
And the celestial city we'’re tumbling through

I just wanna say I love you

In

Chorus

The slush, the snow, the twilight glow,
The ice, the coves, the cigarillo smoke,
My face, your face, falsetto,
The ice, it cracks, oh no, GOD NO!

And we slid down to the cathedral-centric town
All gothic designs and childlike chimes
And from under the ice someone cried

'I can see your heart beating in your chest
But the heart you speak of does not exist
Cos the heart you speak of I think you'’ll find
Is merely a creation of the mind'

And I don'’t wanna be plebeian anymore
To love and be loved, timing 4 by 4

Faux autobiographical commentaries
Awash with insincerities
Wrap this up in snow capped haze
It'’s more cohesive in my brain

What a shame...
Open your window let new leaves turn and crane
Let them in and rearrange
Put down the clichés and add an unpredictable change

Shortcomings with drinks and triangular sick
If you'’re in a corner just dance like a lunatic

Chorus
It's alright

D-I-S-C-O F-U-N-K

-Thom

Jersey

Born Emilie Charlotte
Le Breton in 1853
She lived on the walls
Of the old lamp tavern
She ghosted the hallways
And leaned on the fruit machine
Waiting for the placards
To read her name again
To passing Limousines

She knows no corner of the world will hide it,
No corner of the world will keep her down

Jeanne Marie might have died
If she knew who her mother really was
But she was denied
Till the tabloids had flooded the bars
With the cruel infidelities and the selfish love
That Jersey would hold beneath sheets
If only she could

She knows no corner of the world will hide it,
No corner of the world will keep her down

She might have cut her losses
And died in Monaco
But she was drawn here
By the cigarette smoke
To ghost the hallways
And lean on the fruit machine
Waiting for the credits to read her name
Up on the silver screen
…Again?

-Chreeees

Mopey

Hot tempered stupid diplomat
Don't wanna walk with the cavalcade
Don't know his rapier has no place
Within this space age

But he never gave it that much thought
He never thought something so strong
Could bend and break and deteriorate and just rot away

13 comma don't stay cos
Every dogma has its day

Batted many eyelids at the Bayeux tapestry
Stayed in the car for the gardens of Monét
Whens the world gonna end?
Whens the world gonna end?
Whens the world gonna end?
Whens the world gonna end?
Well how is my hair?
Well how is my hair?
Well how is my hair?
Well how is my

GET BACK IN LINE WITH THE CARAVAN SON AND DO NOT LET ME SEE YOU MOPE
GET BACK IN LINE I SAY GET BACK IN LINE I SAY GET BACK IN LINE AND DON'T MOPE

Through all my foibles I have learnt but
You are just a child in a person suit
Why dontcha wake up don't dissapear up your own arse
I'll get the drinks in we'll forget this farce

But you never gave it that much thought
No you never thought something so strong
Could be crap and wrong and so overly long
It is so au fait with

14 comma don't stay cos
Every dogma has its day
15 comma get away cos
Every dogma has its day

Some swords were sheathed when all calmed down
Some baggage was checked at life's great foyer
Whens the world gonna end?
Whens the world gonna end?
Whens the world gonna end?
Whens the world gonna end?
Concieve your conceit
Concieve your conceit
Concede your conceit
Concede your conceit

GET BACK IN LINE WITH THE CARAVAN SON AND DO NOT LET ME SEE YOU MOPE
GET BACK IN LINE I SAY GET BACK IN LINE I SAY GET BACK IN LINE AND DON'T MOPE

16 comma don't stay cos
Every dogma has its day
17 comma get away cos
Every dogma has its day

Burn all your bridges beside overgrown flora and fauna
It's a desert oasis all around
And we milked a few artworks out of it yeah
But it's useless now, it's silly now

-Thom

Never a Childhood Pyromaniac

Juan De Nova was never a childhood pyromaniac
Since his conception played it safe set sail and never looked back
Now he'’s owned by France
And rats and cats besmirched his true discovery
Give him one more chance
We'’ll burn the ferals of the sixteenth century

Wideawake field
I'’ll take this from you
I deserve what'’s mine
I'’ll burn Captain Cook's crew
The vermin
Will set alight
Under the humming
Of telecommunication satellites
Oh Ascension Island's busy tonight

And your six strong PD won't help you now
And your little sea turtles won'’t help us now
And our big blue sky can'’t help us now
Catharsis is all you can hope for
Juan De Nova was never a childhood pyromaniac well thank God for that

And through the carcassy smoke I see
A new life awaiting you and me
Depending on who you and I have decided to be, my love.
I know I can be aloof but this time I'’ll rain down from above
From the top of the green mountains and the pylons thereof,
And the navigation'’s shot and the eco-problems not forgot
But you stay here with me and we will rewrite history.
Oh, you can mine the guano and I will mine the coal
We'’ll eliminate the eyesores all the telegraph poles

And I'll unman the machines while you tend to the spices
We will harvest new life free of farming devices,
Whilst drinking outspoken Spanish wine erase mistakes of the past
Travel back in time disregarding the contemporary phone mast
Setting right modern crisis but
There'’s always trouble between little openings of paradises

-Thom

The Approach

It can be heard from 62 miles away
The nearest star shouts 'splay bodies splay
until my waves lap at your bed
in burning decay you'll find yourself better off dead'

But I'll pluck a boat for you
From the rose petal patterns of this room

At some anachronistic time
Will come the Sun's demise
And for 8 whole minutes no one will know
Then they'll see and wander what they should've been doing 8 minutes ago

But I'll float off with you
From a dusty back-lit boiler room

We got lost on the approach

And all that's left is dirt
And that's not on report
Blew onto the airstrips
Blew away the ascent enlisted

-Thom

(In Heaven)... --> (D.U.I) Car crash Cure for the Common Cold --> ...Lady in the Radiator Song

I hereby repudiate everything I’ve ever said and will say
I hereby create my own oubliette
This is my waaaaaaay….out!
I’m driving away

It makes more sense than embarrassing mistakes
Makes more sense than ambiguous give-or-takes
Makes more sense than wordplay for wordplay’s sake
Escape, schnell, schnell, escape

Reject reject reject
Rebut rebut rebut
Renounce renounce renounce
Refute because this makes more sense than saying anything

Oh, of the stage and the stages
I disown superego cos I can’t face it
But lose myself in the crash, in the getaway car
The hot ash, the warm thighs, the push up bra
In the backseat, throw the book at me
An unabridged rhyming dictionary
Let’s get out of the romance, plagiarism
Derivational and derision

Through blinkered vision
Retire to keys and strings
Last sex in the car, don’t forget your things
Talking to a brick wall we hit and I did you against
Will this ever get through?
Will this ever make sense?

Chorus

YOU ARE MORE INSANE THAN A DAVID LYNCH FILM
BUT I AM SICKER THAN A CRONENBERG
VIA HEAVE AND VIA GASP
SHOULDN’T SOUND LIKE THIS
SHOULDN’T SOUND LIKE THAT

Last time I’ll ever speak on this brow wrinkling subject
Now I’ll just get on with it
I’ll be the mouthpiece, then maybe I can find peace
Oh comely, nevermind,
STOP HARPING ON!
Brutal nature is at war with everything in its way
Human nature is at war with everything I say
Just mark the end of the chapter and move along
I’ll dust of the debris and submit to simple song

Chorus

-Thom

(Cheap) PFP

Up to my eyeballs again
Guess we've won this round my old friend
And I love you but I cannot say why

So please feel proud
Cos I figured it out
If paitence finds a place
I figured it out

I said I'ld write a song i'ld call it PFP
She said forget the past lets not bask in our history
Said it should last about 3 minutes 30
She said thats fine long as the lines commit to memory

Perambulate, find peace
And i'll try and cater to your needs
Climbed to the top of the tallest lickey hill
Where our lips did not meet
But our hearts were far from still

So please feel protected
Relaxed I hope my skills are effective
If paitence finds a place
I can find my directive

Chorus

Baby you could melt Iceland with your chuzpah
But you're cool enough to build it back up again

Chorus

-Thom

Force-fed Engines

I know it's late
Too late in the day for this to make sense
But i've been dreaming of the waste
And I can't let it slip away
The clouds of dripping rain
Sailed by the warehouses and left again
Leaving soaking dismay

I know I know this
I could swear I know you
I've seen your face round here before
But what do I know?
I'm not even a big fan of snow
Though it's nice to get it I suppose
It's nice to get it I suppose

It's nice to get it I suppose

Can you hear the production line?
Tossing, turning, chugging along
Old crap, new crap, recycled crap
Deployed onto decaying traintracks
Take me to the surrounding districts
Environs cower at your engine's sticks
Envelopment in hyperbole
Transient straight into entropy

We, we just want the truth
The eddifying, stadium engulfing version of the truth
We, we just want the truth
The all singing , all dancing, industrial sized version of the truth
We, we just want the truth

Happiness is a warm chord
Happiness chimes in the cold abroad
Happiness is a warm chord
Happiness chimes in the cold abroad
Happiness is a warm chord
Happiness chimes in the cold abroad

-Thom

Blizzard of 04

Prime time ghost radio, 'going out to all you folks who've come out for the snow'
And i'm waving goodbye, the wipers are drawing new lines, tough luck getting home
All these freezing cold nights, we've spent staring into the glow of those headlights, not too many now, if we can we'll have the silence for ourselves
*Every step cracks fireworks glow, change the station this white noise will not go*
are we flurry or are we the only ones, never missed it, never missed it 'til it's gone,five inches and signal is gone

-Chreeees, Thom

(S.A.D) Christmas in July

Its mid-july but be sure to have yourself a merry christmas
Not without a fight,you'll barely survive the winter
Or Not without the light, you'll barely survive the winter

The passengers on the bus were all dead and buried and i can remember him say "I never liked a girl well enough to give her twelve sharp knives" And i'd like to agree, i'd like to agree

Its mid-July but be sure to have yourself a merry christmas
The seasonally affected started panicking, reaching out for their UV
The seasonally affected started panicking, how will they cope without their precious UV?

The passengers on the bus were all dead and buried and i can remember him say "I never liked a girl well enough to give her twelve sharp knives" And i'd like to agree, i'd like to agree

The passengers on the bus died long ago
What season is this? I don't know
I hope there's snow
I hope it snows

-Chreeees, Thom

Senate Rebel

Walk down the crowded street
So devoid and empty
I've seen the end

It hit everyone at the same time the rich in the air
I can see the smoke billowing from the rooftops
They tried to buy their way into heaven and almost too late the senate rebelled

Can you hear the sirens? Making me dizzy
Can you smell the triers? Burning holes
Always busy
And now this city
This dead committee

My feet are crooked to the ground
They have been there for years
Yet I smile from ear to ear
At some barren time the clouds moved out of their minds, up into the sky, the poor, their third eye

Can you hear the sirens? Making me dizzy
Can you smell the triers? Burning holes
Always busy
And now this city
This dead committee
Walking in line
Static and unkind
The senate rebel
Here's your crime
We'll be just fine

(And does the senate have anything more to add? Yep.)

-Chreees, Thom

Christopher Multisonti

I'm Christopher Multisonti and
you can't enable me
There's no chemical solution to a spiritual problem
But you still owe me
Owe me some money today

Adriana
Why d'ya bug me?
Adriana
Why d'ya bug me?
You are the rat in my cage
And now my temperance is lost this time round
You are the rat in my cage
And now my temperance is lost

I'm floundering on the rocks again but
We do not need to defend
Now that I'm made and engaged
But you still owe me
Yeah you still owe me alright

Chorus x2

She says 'you don't think about me
you only think about yourself and your disease'
Well Adriana I'm a soldier

-Thom

Blurry Life

Damp fascinations of space and time
And supposedly this is a crime
It's a pity you can't be more introvert
Then maybe you'd see it for what it's worth

Your love is like a turbine turning in my mind
But the blowing it lessens every time
And it's looking pretty rusty so take this cure
In 30 more seconds we'll be bodies on the floor

Wait

You're not missing the point
You're missing the questions
You can't understand
I aint made no mistakes

You think you know
But you're not omniscient (oh no)
For that you'll have to convert to my ways
Then maybe you'd know for a while

The finishing touches just a glossy overcoat
The piety of society gripped around your throat
Whisper it whisper it for this you'll surely hang
Just cut off the chains you could be a real man

Your love is like a roaring ringing in my ear
But the sound it decreases year after year
If you're gonna ignore me just hear this plea
For once realise your blatant hypocrisy

Wait

Everyone searches for the movie life
But it wouldn't be as interesting without the strife
If I could drill through just one thing it's that none of this matters to the men who should be kings

Laid down to sleep late one night and woke up in a blurry life and cogs turned round inside my head the ground was soft my face was red and I saw everything so clear the some came out the horizon disappeared but then I woke from blissful dream into a place so fucking obscene but

Wait, that blurry life was better than mine

-Thom

Something in the Water

And we're all very happy
You decided to go crazy
I can't hear your incantations
So they really will not phase me
And you're fence is looking rusty
And the wires fallen down
And you're looking pretty ugly
All thanks to your toxic town

One day

There must be something
Something in the water
Vanity has its price
Someone should've told her
And now her house is derelict
Her home is where she lies
The spark it soon faded
From her decaying greying eyes

One day

I will alleviate your superficial aesthetic
And you will crawl upon the ground at being rendered pathetic
Your sorry way hopefully someday will turn to a pandemic
All will cry but with my eyes dry I'll administer no anesthetic

-Thom, Chreeees

Dolphin Song

We'll live like animals and eat like kings
And oh my mind is full of things
All the noises in my head
Are noises that I will put to bed

-Chreeees, Thom