ABBA
ABBA swims in the sea
Then we fish it
We chop it
Stuff it in a glass can
And take it to the shop
There that fish from the 70’s
Sings S.O.S.
Please darling
It’s all Mayday
Save Me
I don’t want to hang out with the poisonous herrings
From Baltic Sea
I can’t breathe
I thought I knew you
Why don’t you know me anymore
Is that the best you can do
One buys the ABBA’s herring can
Where ABBA sings in high heels
Under the disco ball
And one eats ABBA with young potatoes,
dill, butter and onion-milk
Can summer dinner be better
Always the Same Day
It’s Saturday
A day with eight letters
It’s a day of ‘running gun blue’
WOHOO HAHAA
Tomorrow is a Sunday day
A day with six letters
Almost perfect
It’s like 1×2×3
And it’s like 1+2+3
What am I going to do
Oh my poor poor hand
Oh my poor poor red knuckles
Soon it’ll be Monday
After a day with six letters
But oh there is six letters in Monday too
I’m sloughing off
But my phone is saying ‘NO! NO! NO!’
It’s Tuesday
A day with seven letters
So blue day
The phone is still saying ‘NO! NO! NO!!’
And I’m talking with a man from a house of madmen
He believes he is a devil
And he told to me about Wednesday
A day with nine letters
The man who believes he is the devil
Won’t let me go
And my phone telling gibe of me
I run away I run to hide
To Thursday
A day with eight letters
It’s a day of ‘black country rock’
But I’m not in safe
The man who believes he is the devil
Runs after me with my mean mean phone
Who is telling gibe of me
But someone pulls me in Friday
A day with six letters
Oh why six six six always six
But they follow me
All their little life
And after mad mad party in Friday
We all disappeared to Saturday
A day with eight letters
There we are sitting
Under under look under
The Hazel Hazel tree
Under the Hazy Haze Hazel tree
There are we sitting
Me, The man who believes he is the devil,
My phone who is telling gibe of me and Someone
Eight Days
Catastrophic
Hearts will go down
If yesterday never comes
Universe will fall down
If yesterday never comes
Catastrophic is here then
What will you do
Hearts will go down
If spring never comes
Universe will fall down
If spring never comes
Catastrophic is here then
Where will you go
Hearts will go down
I called you tomorrow
Universe will fall down
I called you tomorrow
Why haven’t you done nothing
Cucumber
I’m your green line
in dark
I’m your green light
in traffic
I’m your green cucumber
in red salad
I help you find home
And I won’t go anywhere
I stay
And your green bedroom is best
Genius Red Old Dragons
When day light broke its way in
You closed your eyes
Forget being alive
Touched lips of Jim Morrison picture
Undressed your trousers
And vowed you’ll never let yourself down again
Olive green light
Sparkled and shined and beamed
Like a jedi sword
Thru your eyelids
Unable to hide your red dragons
Genius dragons, old dragons
Know everything
And they let you know too
You felt the touch of cherry blossoms
And it wasn’t the daylight
G.N.
Ribbed sky waited for you and the others
Burnt grass covered the highest hill
Wind, colder than north, blown from past
And G.N. in black coat was standing corner of the café
Like someone would have mixed a drop of grape juice in grey clouds
Ribbons in suede jacket of an old western actor
Swayed, when he run into the rotten saloon
through the doors straight to the back yard
It was just front face
Sand was dark grey and brown
And a poet who had fell in love
yelled to a whore, who was eating chocolate ice cream
And the banker, who rejected loan petitions,
was sitting on the highest hill
Somebody yelled that he was a walrus
And other told that he was a hop frog
But nothing was anymore
‘Cos banker had just rejected the last loan petition
How Ordinary
Shadow over the grass
How ordinary “over the grass”
Thought Arthur
I guess Paul wouldn’t have done like that
Shadow under the sky
Under the stars
How ordinary, I say
My lips blood red
Like lingonberry
Why something that tastes so bad
Has to have so beautiful name
Love is like flowers in the window
Oh this is one of those days
When you’re gone with the wind
And thunder makes you so scared
How ordinary is ordinary world?
I ask
I came out of volcano
I’ll make it gold mine of mine
Be my friend Pen Pen
This is our day
How ordinary, I say
Je Suis le Fidèle Ferme, la Livrasion de Rêverie
La vie est le thé chaud
Mais je ne crois pas
Je ne crois pas
Mais ma foi est ferme
Je fournis les rêveries pour toi
Mais je ne crois pas en rêveries
Oh je suis le fidèle ferme
La livrasion de rêverie
Mais les dies m’ont abandonné
Oh je suis seule
Mais je suis fier
Je m’aime moi-même
et je t’aime toi
Cette grande illusion me condamnera
Les dieus m’ont abandonné
Mais je ne crois pas à cette grande illusion
Lalalalalala
Lalalalalala
I’m not here
I’m hiding behind a big tree
I like being me
I’ve halted in my track
When the world spins
Lalalalalala
This is mine
I’m not here
I’m spinning again and again
Pretty weird life
It’s still here, totally calm
But cows and pigs are flying
Flying with the maelstorm
Flying around me
Lalalalalala
I’m crazy
I go away, goodbye!
Don’t drink Coca-Cola
Lalalalalala
Liberation
On beautiful gray day I thought wild thoughts
How much there’s blood in a man
How much you need to fill the bath
Thoughts of mine
Got no sense
But forgive me
It’s time of liberation
Nose Cancer
I have nose cancer
I noticed it yesterday
Little thing inside my nose
I’m worry of it
Will I die
Is it bad or good
And I wonder
Will I die
Cos’ of nose cancer
I have nose cancer
Radio
Shadow drives the car
I sit in the back seat
I hear fucking radio on background
Streets of Philadelphia turns on in my head
But the fucking radio is there still
I didn’t know it’s that song
But he stared me thinking why I said so
Well I really didn’t know
But he thinks “yeah that is what you say”
Moon and stars and mist
It’s night time in this bay
In this car drive by shadow man
I see him in forest rolling by the road
Shoot the fucking radio
All I do is this
All I lie is this
All I tell is nothing
But they and Mr. Shadow
Well it’s not Mr. Smith, I’d might be happy
Won’t believe me now or ever
I open the window and yell to world
To moon, to stars and to Mr. Shadow and his friends
It’s not me here now
And I jump off this car of death
Maybe I’ll hitchhike
Saints
Hey you honey
Be my dog
Long gone are times
When we were still saints
I’ll be cat
Little tiger with stripes
We’ll have fun
And we won’t be saints
/ 16.11.2004 /
Spoon
Give me that thing
Which makes you mad
Love a man with red
Man is great
And loving spoon of hate
Is fucking you
Things
Windscreen wipers
Sport stopper, I can’t get it open
Snowy mist and darkness
Shining freeway
Soft salmiac licorice
gives me masochistic satisfaction
Stockman is a turn number
and loneliness
Adults read fairy tales too
Driver died in a car accident
He wanted to be an astronaut
Dreams disappear when
windscreen wipers kill them
