Do you hear me Won’t you turn me around Do you feel me Do you feel me through the sound I had a dream Standing at the foot of my bed with a tiger toothed sabre in my hand I cut the cord again I had a dream I’m the first thing to exist in their eyes And for a token of a fraction I’m alive Then I’m ignored again But I’m so glad it’s diamonds in the mud And not a sea of diamonds all the time And there’s a dream (why won’t you look at me) Indelibly etched in my mind (i’m right behind the screen) She cries for the loss of the child (here’s my virginity) that wriggles with joy in her arms (I’m ready to be seen) flipping coins with their monkey paw they speak to me with open arms they pull their head out of the radical clouds that hold the objects of their founding hallelujah oh to see what’s happening inside of me their infinite face abides a jaw benign, a smile cracked wide I am what I am To be is to do To do is to be I am what I am To do is to be I am what I am I am what I am To be is to do To be is to do I am what I am I am what I am To do is to be I am what I am To do is to be To be is to do I am what I am Children are our future working all the time and always at rest falling in love with everyone and not caring what anyone says doing what’s expected and doing what feels right getting a grip on everything and letting everything go getting closer and closer and floating further and further away floating further and further away floating further and further away

Out of the dust of things A planet comes to stay A kilo-mega-gigaton of advice to take None of it pointing the same way None of it ever doing anything anyway I guess it’s wasting all your time But are you sacrificing anything anyway Or have you only known the ride? (Collision imminent) What if I get granted access to the moving parts but find I don’t know what it’s made of? What if I get down there and the only drink around is something I don’t like the taste of? What if I’m not emotionally equipped to make the best of the worst situations? What if it’s all ok? Wait in line to fight a fire that’s out before your turn Wait in line and then expire and somehow still get burned I never wanted to be anyone anyway I never wanted to be here I guess nobody ever wanted to be themselves And if they did it would be weird Floating further and further away Floating further and further away

You told me I could do much better than that But that you loved me anyway You rubbed my nose in it and told me it stank But I’d improve and that’s okay You estimated I was five out of ten, It was the best that I could do Black and brown and blue You’d read an article on Medium that You said had opened up your mind All purple passages and passable prose Predicting fate for all mankind Such opportunity to stress yourself out And manufacture an excuse To paint me with the brush you do Black out the windows and white out the lines In the script I’d attributed to you It doesn’t matter any more anyway Nobody’s watching in the way they used to Took you to dinner with the world’s population Who so graciously took care of the bill You wonder openly what you ever saw in me They’re watching awkwardly and can’t sit still I know they wonder what I see in you And they treat me in the transparent way they do And I spend all my time resembling a cartoon

Came so close to having something down Then you let it all go again This time A solution eludes you, yes it does Oh! What’s that in the eye of the train driver? That’s his skill. It glints through his impurity Notches in the sleepers A derailment in Exeter If magic never happens, I’m afraid for us to die The tram decelerates so suddenly your freshly purchased cool refreshing coca cola smashes to the floor Scythe replaces abacus The denouement at exit is That magic never happens until after we have died 123456 Which part isn’t working 123456 A confusing basin 123456 Some amazing concept 123456 Sent into the ocean 123456 Will it come back to me 12345

If by my will and will alone Through some organic force untold Hydrangeas, bridges, bricks and bone Would unify from distant tone To solid sculpted gold My talents noticed in the park A twig I gild to pass the time And elevated fast and stark From oddity to work of art Seraphic and sublime — — This obsession’s got a hold on me Families competing on TV For a 32” LCD On a show I’m hosting for a fee And I’m getting pretty weary of the gold lamé Is this the kind of person people really look up to today? Is it too late cause I wanna think twice Put the golden mausoleum on ice And call up Oprah and inform her that I can’t attend I’m gonna hide away where nobody will find me again ///// Hear people tapping At the window They’re tryna take away my handles and keys Good luck when this economy’s destabilization Is all down to me I wish that I could Pull the gloves off I coulda been somebody don’t you agree? Aren’t I just the sort of freak who makes a million prancing around on TV? —— But then I’m sure I’d grow to hate That too, I guess I need to find A middle I could tolerate But that seems far too complicated For my tiny mind Is that what people do all day Live conscious calculated lives Or think about it less than I? Perhaps the thing I need to try Is turning off my mind — — You’re idling By the cenotaph And it’s obvious The thing to do You bend And pet a pigeon And it stays Unafraid Of your body Emanating Not a thought ///// Does having a thought cement the thought permanently and is it de-haveable? Is there a way to control forgetting to a reliable extent or is that just suppression? I feel a deep spiritual weight on me, the rules of it seem to have been given some kind of ergonomic logic by some thinking force, otherwise I’d have turned my whole body to metal the first time I washed myself. And when was that? Why did it start when it did? What event in my life triggered this thing? And does the power wane as I get older? Am I going to become weaker at this? Why am I afraid of that, isn’t that exactly what I want? Has this become so fundamentally a part of me that to lose it would be to lose myself? Would I mourn the loss of the thing I most despise? This afternoon I discovered if I was thinking really hard about it I could transform both an object and another object touching it. When I walk barefoot outside I leave golden footprints embedded in the ground and you can chart how anxious I am by excavating them and measuring how deeply they penetrate the earth beneath me. Is this what it’s like to be a god of some kind? Am I being blessed or punished? Why do I even examine it using such a basic moral dichotomy, why would I imbue fate and the universe with human characteristics when it treats us so inhumanely? There’s no logic to it, and the structures we create are entirely artificial. But even by that metric, am I better than other people? Or am I lesser? Why do I keep falling into the same moral dichotomy as before? Isn’t that an innately human action that proves I’m not some sort of other being? Sometimes I brush past objects and they don’t get transformed, is it possible that if I were rigorous enough with myself I’d be able to turn it on and off? Is intention the same as want? Is there any way to separate my conscious thoughts from my actions? Is there any way of preventing that from being a total mess? Is there any way this could kill me? Will it end my life somehow one day? Has it already?

In a dope, in a daze Picking up little ways My favourite knowers have known me today It’s a farce, it’s a fight It’s a lot, it’s alright Knowing they’re probably wrong anyway I can try to pretend After all in the end We are all friends But that all depends Seven beers and a coke Pick them up, hear a joke Lads are eliding your thoughts and your looks Does it mean what you think Maybe it’s just the drink Crouching in hiding deciding the crux Spend all night deconstructing an email received in the gents About what it meant With your eye gemini you can identify us With your eye gemini you can identify us With your gemini eye you identify All of our thoughts even when you are running away

I don’t wanna say goodbye When I open up my eyes And really actually I wanna stay I’m suspicious of the thing And the nadir it’ll bring But I think about it anyway Deep sound beneath the ground surrounding all my fears It’s tears permeate the surface birthing anxious blisters in my path for years Well I’m feeling pretty good and I don’t know why So can we throw critical thinking away? I’m gonna text my mother just to say hey Have a non-analytical day I’ll take my macbook underground I don’t deserve a hi-fi sound And just record whatever comes to mind Something getting in the way A little flavour of the day And made explicit in a way that rhymes There’s something out of place, this pouting face of mine Mash it up in a panic and then mix it with ceramic And pour it into a mould of my head smiling all of the time Well I’m feeling pretty good and I don’t know why So can we throw critical thinking away? I’m gonna text my sister just to say hey Have a non-analytical day Maybe if it’s not raining I can go and get those buffalo platforms with the transparent sides I’ve wanted for so long Well I wanna feel good But I don’t know if I should Consumerism tells me it’s so But if I cave into that am I letting myself go? Feeling pretty good so can we throw capitalism away? Gonna text my grandmother just to say hey Have an anarcho-communist day hey hey hey Throw critical thinking away

Let it go and never think about it Let it go and never think about it Let it think and never go about it Go and think it never let about it Go about and think it never let it Never go and think it let about it Think it go about let never and it I don't think that you are ready To let it go I don't think that I don't think that

On our way to Glasgow I nearly let myself go When I see you in the front Staring at yourself You regain the wheel Laugh and tell us nothing is real I find it totally bizarre To think of you this way And I know you don't mean it So then why do you do it If it was only up to you And I know you don't think it So then why do you say it If it was only up to you You're in rare form tonight Consuming Sauchiehall Street And regurgitating flesh In the shape of things to come Those magazines you read Don't think I haven't seen you Do you wear image like a cloak Do you wear image like a cloak Or crawl inside of it to die?

Anyone can see This thing isn't what you wanted it to be I ask you if you wanna leave it all and go Your reaction is slow In this dimension you're the architect Careful what you say They'll interfere with all the things you love for fun They can knock you sideways I'll give you that for free And if you don't like the outcome They'll win you round eventually

Recently life rings true It's not that big a deal Everything placed where I wanted it But not for real Traipsing along in the mud Do you remember the bad times? Nice to meet you Nice to eat you Cutest of imprisonments I know I'm sorry