And so it starts We map out a benched heart And hit the park after dark Feel the rain against my robes As I relieve myself on a lamppost Ash, dust, claps and thuds This is how to cope with floods Get out on the dubs He balks at the sight of thee Howling under the oak tree Hazmat spies our fire But what he don't know is he's next on the pyre So you've a boxcutter in your duffle coat Nose bleed in the 2nd class post Youse ain't spooked but the hoods they shook Backhanded praise for the scalp you just took And look that's a lot of blood To wash off in the flood From the reams, to the road, to the mud We got it all locked up

Turn me around, cause its impossible to go on like this You couldn’t honestly know how little you mean to me You couldn’t possibly see through the cloak of my dignity But I’ve never spilt blue on my collar So I just scream and holler We are evil (know what you say) We are evil (not today) We are evil (oh to be found) We are evil just turn me around Cause its impossible to go on like this Gazing back through the pines I see where crooked rooftops bide While soft, sunken sheaths of meat They fall and they gather round my feet I throw myself further into the throng The cuckoos call a coronation song I whistle a droning note along and cry

A sad stork hits The North once more Spun out from the core all breathless and sore Once flayed in the streets one can never retreat Set controls for the rine of the British Summertime A mad stork hits the ward once more Head shaved for keepsakes Honourable L-plates ‘Where on earth have you been?’ I’ve been jonesing like a fiend All terrible seen for another slice of amitriptyline They say rep for the code but whats a nomad to do? 0121 354 01902? I got birth marks I ain’t even found yet Ain’t even been round yet Ain’t even pondered the shape of beat to come in your town yet I want to be the boy with no beard, shirt or shoes Who rides out to meet the Hellfyre crew And thats true My younger self once told me, once spoke in a dream ‘You’re as lost as I am clung on isms and ists I might be frightened and bored but I’m more so in your midst’ I fire back to say I know where my home is I don’t need to be hid I’m an Asexual Odinist and you’re just a lonely kid So a glad stork hits the floor once more Trounced up and down right left and around I’m struggling to tie my bolo down I give up, I give up on it But a man at the bar stumbles up just to say ‘Make the most of these days boy they’re the best you’ll ever see’ ..ok But when you’re fraught with discrepancy Bout familial dependency no-one wants rhymes bout millennial ascendancy I give up, I give up on it So a sad stork hits The North once more Return to the core, lore on land, land on lore The greatest feat I ever saw was sights on the rine Of the Great British Dreamtime

Well he’s got you in raptures, getting gloucestered in the backyard Smiling and dancing like a boy Proclaim love in southpaw, beat it out on the back lawn Wiling and dancing like a boy Well you once had a true love but not anymore You gave your heart gladly like never before But now he won’t have you he says that you’re through Well thats alright my darling thats alright by you Spied the moment that you gave up, you were down out on your luck Crying and dancing like a boy Proclaim love like an outlaw, out on this encore Wiling and dancing like a boy Well he wrote you a letter, says he’s found a new girl You’ll dance at their wedding, parade, sing, unfurl You’ll drink to the bride-groom, as if you don’t care And if you don’t get home you’ll sleep on the stairs Because my paradise keeps me going And the wind in the wires keep showing that In all that I want and all that I do I’m better off without you

(Tom Waits) When you walk through the garden You gotta watch your back Well, I do beg your pardon Walk the straight and narrow track If you walk with Jesus He's gonna save your soul You gotta keep the devil Way down in the hole

I woke early that day. The sun was up because it never set. My room led out onto a cramped spit and spiral staircase that traced the north face of the house down. I saw few guests around, and with dirty acrylics daubed ‘North Route 1’ on the carcass of an empty cardboard beer case. The plan was to get out from Reykjavík for the day and find Glymur. My approach to hitching remains the same. Straight road and hair down. So drivers think you’re a girl. The first were a keeno Italian family. A weathered lady, her son and his little boy. Chatty and bright, I tapped Hveragerði on their rudimentary map. Told them to take a diversion on their way back. They dropped me at the whale fjord intersection. Many tourists skip it so I waited a while for the next lift. The driver was Icelandic, dropping back a borrowed van after a Reykjavík wedding. He didn’t take me far. So few cars, I began to get a little stressed. Pacing east, barley fields reminded me of the continent, not a volcanic rock in the north atlantic. A roaring behind me, and over the crest came the largest offroader I’d ever seen. Climbing aboard the vehicle borrowed, we followed the road all the way to Glymur. You’d never know the turn for what it led to. No room or reason for tourbuses or the bored. There were a lot of midges though, scrambling down the dirt path a kind local picked me up for the last km. Said he’d lived here his whole life. At the trailhead I couldn’t spy the fall, just undergrowth and walls of lupin. Until caves through red rock lead me down a cliff. I came to a river, muddy and wild. A log across served as my only possible route. Once over I climbed and scurried up, higher and higher to the firmaments above, the sky a common treasury for all, each step uncovering more and more of Glymur’s infinite fall I haven’t had much happier days than that. No beard, shirt or shoes at the top, wading through the boundless water. The day I saw Glymur infinite and free.

We were caught in the deathsloe We were caught on the way- So you swing from the right side and then to the left and its Bereaved, bereft, sunnied cement, oh I guess you know The room sags as I enter a smile, walls fall away like you’re always on trial A good way to spend a while She said ‘be haunted my fellow and I’ll take care of the rest With my bad gateway and foggy documents’ Let proceedings commence So I swing from the right side and then to the left and its Chaos - bereaved and bereft We were caught in the deathsloe We were caught on the way- So you get out to Salop for a day or so and Hash out your woes down Ebenezer Row With my cunt crossed boss and your aunt’s spin teacher in tow

(Mono Works) From up here I can see Many other windows like these From up here I can see Between the trees Many other windows like these So I stand here swaying in my room As it approaches the end of June Trying to find a way amongst the rhythms Trying to find a way to make decisions From up here I can see Between the trees And up here in the afternoon Tryna make a new tune Sun shines thru my window From up here I can see Many other houses like these I wonder if they can see me