Splatter.
Nothing changes ever,
More lies everywhere,
Fake stories in the newspaper
Splattered everywhere.
All tiptoeing from an item
Censoring another,
Oppressed into writing fiction,
When the facts are overwhelming
Suffocating,
And the big brass band,
Celebrates your life,
And your careless way of writing,
Journalism has hit a new low,
What is more important?
Is how much makeup you need?
To look good in front of the cameras,
Sensationalism,
Cannibalism,
Eating the truth,
Spewing out heresy,
Breaking news is the way,
Headlines to smash your teeth in,
Misleading the truth,
Cementing the way for higher ratings,
And the curtain call,
You salute your audience with a smile,
Only two seconds ago you were talking cheap,
Laughing at genocide and rape,
You do not care of the victims or their families,
You only care about how much thigh you can show,
Raising the skirts hem a little higher,
Highlights to be shown on the web,
And the big brass band,
Is thumping out a new tune,
Which is the same old music,
Humming the same old news,
Make a name for yourself,
Splatter it everywhere,
You will gain followers on Twitter,
With your perfect dyed blond hair,
With your push up bra to push up ratings,
Your flirty innuendos with a religious leader,
Forget your facts and fluffing your lines,
While last night you was snorting trails,
It must be hard work being an asshole,
A television presenter without a soul,
With no heart or anything inside,
Until you get back to your hotel that is,
You have spread your legs so often,
Twice as much as you have spread lies,
But only satisfied when there is an earthquake,
So you can return to the front line,
With your sick smile amidst collapsed buildings,
Checking your make up near to lifeless bodies,
Scratching your wrinkled ass before the homeless children,
How can you get away with this?
And the big brass band marches on,
And tramples over another crime scene,
Caught in the act, laughing at the news feed,
Heartless bitch so pristine and obscene,
And this news just in,
Our news reader lady friend has just hit thirty,
Too old and too out of date,
We have another willing victim,
Reading in the wings,
Ready to become a news whore,
We have an update and a quick flash,
You could say it was a wardrobe malfunction,
But her quick flash of her knickers,
Got the YouTube profile moving,
And the whole nation wants more,
We will bring you updates as they happen,
I am sure you will stick with us,
As you know the sky’s the limit,
And we are vultures scavenging in the dust,
Now to the weather,
With the delightful Fiona…
Motherfucker.
I could be delightful,
I could be rampant,
I could be artistic,
But generally,
I’m a motherfucker,
I could be anything,
I could be sometimes,
I could be if I was bothered,
Not this time,
It rained today,
Rained hard,
Downpour,
Cats and dogs,
Water everywhere,
Forming in the potholes,
On all of the roads,
I went out after the storm,
Didn’t want to get my feet wet,
I now stand before a puddle,
Saw my reflection,
I saw the motherfucker,
That is me!
I could do better, I know I can,
I could be better, if I ran,
I could see better if I could see,
Past the hatred,
Inside of me,
But all I feel,
All strong or faint,
Overstepping the humour,
Breaking the plate,
Pretending to be loved,
With no sign of mates,
I went shopping,
Like sometimes you do,
Weary and tired,
Shop to shop,
Nothing suits the tastes,
That I have required,
Too young and fancy,
For an old rocker like me,
I felt someone staring at me,
I turned around real quick,
I saw my reflection looking back me,
And he was such a dick,
I saw the same old motherfucker,
That was me,
I could be wise,
I could be sane,
I could be anything,
I could be again,
But there is no fantasy,
In being an old cunt like me,
Where time has worn through,
And has infiltrated my soul,
And to hear the same old things,
Time after time,
It makes want to dance,
On a beach full of land mines,
Because something’s aren’t worth it,
And certainly not me,
You are definitely wasting your time,
On a motherfucker like me,
I could if I would,
I could one day,
But giving myself too much attention,
Would lead to dismay,
Because I am all home,
Not one bit clone,
I could set standards,
But I would still be alone,
And dropping down the guillotine,
On a head that needs to be cut,
Infested with paranoid verses,
And the voices won’t shut up,
I am dedicated to bringing myself down,
It was what my parents wanted me to do,
I love looking at myself in the mirror,
Just to tell myself fuck you!
I could have tried harder,
I could have been a man,
I could have given a shit,
But I’m a motherfucker on a pile,
Of bad news,
A trail of slimy sorrow,
I tried my best,
To wrestle my case,
Maybe I’ll die tomorrow,
And then I will rest,
My aching bones,
That I have punished for all these years,
I’m sick of seeing that reflection,
And the motherfucker grinning back at me,
I am sorry that I’ve tainted your life,
It makes me sick inside,
Why the fuck did she give birth to me,
If she didn’t love me,
So if I am a motherfucker,
What does that make her?
Electric Blue.
Static electricity,
Keeps your hair on end,
And priceless conversations,
Can lead you around the bend,
And it’s like a guitar solo,
That is there to give time,
For the singer to get high,
And remember how to rhyme,
And it is there in everything you do,
It is the aura that is electric blue,
Constantly thinking,
Finding a verse,
Wishing for readers,
Or something worse,
A reviewer,
A time waster,
A ball breaker,
A spiritual leader,
Who have no time for all you write,
Because there is no pattern to it,
The rhymes are not so brilliant,
And the words are too basic,
You cannot win in whatever you do,
So continue into electric blue,
There are applications,
To calculate,
How many years of school,
You need to understand,
All of this,
In the end,
It seems what I write,
Is so low down and basic,
Cheaper than a free newspaper,
That should offend me,
But this means my words,
Can be understood by the masses,
It doesn’t alienate me,
From the shop floor worker,
The working man,
That I am still am,
True to
Impressum
Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG
Texte: Darren Hobson
Bildmaterialien: Darren Hobson
Lektorat: Darren Hobson
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 02.02.2016
ISBN: 978-3-7396-3524-8
Alle Rechte vorbehalten
Widmung:
This is dedicated to the future as the past is left behind in this book, my future has in it my muse and the two demonic cats!
This book is dedicated to all the people that have left this world too soon, from family to other people who have helped us survive this bastard of a life.