There Is Something About Endings …….

THERE IS SOMETHING ABOUT ENDINGS

I’M SLIGHTLY STONED

LISTENING TO THE ALABAMA THREE

I GET TO THINKING

DO WE REALLY NEED THE QUEEN?

DO WE REALLY NEED

THAT WHOLE ROYALTY SCENE?

CAN ANYBODY TELL ME

WHAT THEY’VE EVER DONE FOR ME?

THEY USE MY TAXES

TO MAINTAIN THEIR LUXURY

I WILL NEITHER BOW DOWN

NOR WILL I TIP MY OLD WOOLY HAT

I DON’T LEAD AND I DON’T FOLLOW

HEIRARCHY MEANS NOTHING TO ME

LET’S GO WALKING SIDE BY SIDE

TURN THEIR PALACES TO MUSEUMS

TAKE BACK ALL OUR COMMON LAND

MAKE DUCHYS INTO PEOPLES FARMS

NEVER PLACE DYNASTIC FAMILIES

AT THE HEAD OF ANYTHING AGAIN

NO MORE GHASTLY ACCIDENTS OF BIRTH

LEERING AS THEY POCKET OUR CASH

GRINNING AS THEY SLIP ON THE CROWN

THERE IS MORE THAN A WHIFF OF SCANDAL

ABOUT INHERITED POSITIONS OF POWER

BRING ON THE END OF ALL MONARCHY

THERE IS SOMETHING ABOUT ENDINGS

THE DELICIOUS FINALITY THAT COMES

WITH DRAWING LINES IN SAND

FORWARD TO THE PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC

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Weird Naked Indian

I wrote this in January 2010 and Marc Gordon and I recorded it for the first Chilly Dogz CD album of Performance Poetry “Boom-Time In Dystopia”. This is the demo version recorded on my hand held Olympus WS-560M digital voice recorder.  It’s so sad all those poor bankers who had breakdowns and never got it back together again…..isn’t it?   Ha ha ha…..

Here is the poem:-

WEIRD NAKED INDIAN
There’s a weird naked Indian living in our wood
Yesterday he told me he’d like to stay for good
He lives on nuts and berries and a handful of brown rice
He tells me that he’s found the keys to paradise!

I watch him from my window, foraging for food
Strolling through the bushes, completely in the nude
He says he’s had enough of living in the West
And who am I to tell him that he doesn’t know what’s best!

He’s weird,He’s naked

And he says, He’s an Indian

Pitched up by the stream in his tie-dyed bivouac
He’s given up the booze, the cocaine and the crack
He’s got a lot of stories, waiting to be told
I hope that I can hear them all before I get too old

Tales of town houses and his gleaming Maserati
Of Kruger Rands and parties with the banking glitterati,
Bent shares and dodgy mortgages, and how he lost it all
And the minor role he played in Lehman Brothers fall

There’s a weird naked Indian living in our wood
This morning I told him, he could stay for good

He’s weird, He’s naked
And he says, He’s an Indian
If he says
He’s an Indian
He’s an Indian!

Copyright: Harry Rogers – Aberbanc – 27/01/2010


The Modern Privateers – The Chilly Dogz

Another track from The Chilly Dogz second album with Marc Gordon on guitar and Roland Guitar Synth.  I wrote this after visiting a particular tower block in Swansea as part of my job as a social survey interviewer for ONS.  The dealers in the courtyard are really scary with their dogs just itching to get at you as you gingerly make your way to the lifts.  I was warned not to carry my laptop into the lift on my own on this estate, I did and luckily nothing happened but it is very representative of certain forgotten parts of the Coalition nightmare we all inhabit today.  Of course heroin has been rife in these areas for decades now….. as have the money lenders!

MODERN PRIVATEERS

This is the story of the Modern Privateers

Be careful ‘cos it just might, fill you up with tears

The Lift it is broken

We gotta use the stairs

This is because

No-one fuckin’ cares

(about) Who makes all the laws

Or who owns all the shares

(and why) Public it’s yours

And private it’s theirs

Living up the tower

For at least another year

Giving loads of money

To some goddam privateer

Outside in the courtyard

Stands an illustrated man

With his heavy chained bull-terrier

And his new black windowed van

In the flats on all the balconies

The casements have gone rusty

All the winter rain gets in

The furniture smells musty

Legions of people living here

Just can’t take it for much more

They’re reduced to spending all their time

Scrabbling around to score

The illustrated man has

A friend named Sharkskin Jack

Who will always loan you money

When you need to buy some smack

But, when you borrow money

Off of men like Sharkskin Jack

No matter how much you give to them

You’ll not finish paying back

They’ll string you out upon their rack

For years and years and years

Those two bastards and the rentier

Are the modern Privateers.

Copyright: Harry Rogers, 24/05/2010

Old Red Volvo Car – The Chilly Dogz with Dave Sutherland

I wrote this on the day I heard about Johnny Edgecombe’s death.  I was in the South of France on holiday at a place called Banyuls Sur Mer and sat in a bar drinking pastis and thinking about the 1970’s when Johnny and I had a lot of adventures in his vintage Volvo.  Recorded at Red Kite Studios with Dave Sutherland on Guitar and Marc Gordon on Roland Guitar Synth and on The Chilly Dogz 2nd album.

OLD RED VOLVO CAR

Playing chess with Johnny Edge

In The Tolly public bar

We spoke of blue nosed schooners

Sailing Caribbean seas

Johnny dreamed one day that he

Would journey there from Africa

 

He brought me a brown leather jacket

From the market in Amsterdam

He said “Harry man this fits you

Much better than it fits me,

I think that you should keep it

It won’t cost you a damn.”

 

Now Johnny had become a gentle man

In spite of his violent past

He loved his three children

Truly with all his heart

He was always a father

Right up to the last

 

Bringing Greenwich and Bermondsey

The finest in jazz

From Dudu, Django and Stan

Not forgetting Paraphernalia

The Edges were smooth, the music so cool

Johnny had living p’zazz

 

Now, no more pints of Guinness

Downed in one, by the jar

No more tastes or toots

To brighten up our days

No more midnight cruising

In that old red Volvo car……..

 

Goodbye Johnny

My Brother!

Copyright: Harry Rogers – Banyuls Sur Mer – 03/10/2010