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Route 8

Routine Hate

Parachuting into the post-punk poetry planet

Starting grid

It all starts here

Take a deep breath

Don't start your engines 

If you have too much fear

There's oil and grease and foul words

Exhaust fumes and fog beware

I'm not painting a sweet picture of life

I never promised I would be nice

As COVID proves resistant not going away

They are bombing their cities every day

If you was aware of this when you were born

What would you do?

Turn around, head back into the bloody womb

Like any normal new-born would do

Don't start to roll forward

Before you seen green lights

Don't stay awake reading fake news

In the grogginess of midnight

Use your head and make no mistake

Everyone wants to con you with cheesecake

They gave you something sweet then slap you

Give you a surprise and then rob you

They are heartless and they tried to be nice

This is the starting grid for a bitch called life

Learn on a need to know basis

Based on lies and not fact

On camera they advertise peace to their nation

While their medieval army lines up to attack

They manipulate and you see a distraction

Only then the enemy is called into action

As we devour popcorn watching the news

Everyone wants to show you their views

But as murder and atrocities are real

Nobody wants to give them a hot meal

Can you believe what that cunt did

This is life and we're only on the starting grid

I hate politics in all its forms

I'm against violence and I'm against war

But we should not let this get out of hand

Arm the tanks let's make a stand

I would help if I knew how

I would arrive if I could help the strategy

I wouldn't come if I just got in the way

But I want to make that bastard pay

It's not the young soldiers not their choice

They have no freedom and certainly no voice

Marched into war without having any advice

Given the option they wouldn't think twice

This is the world we live in and full of greed

The quest for power and unnecessary need

Can't we live in harmony like we once did

The end of world and this is the starting grid

We want to heal the world but not anymore

Shares in the pharmaceutical industry sore

Recalibrate the missiles in self-defence

Watch the war while cowering on the fence

Threat of nuclear war has never been higher

Johnson and Biden hide in their concrete bunkers

Phoning the president giving the population hope

While dumping shit on an already slippery slope

This just one week in a group of many

We fight to exist and earn a single penny

Internet interaction carving out an epidemic

The whole world listens and gets in a panic

So what are we starting for

Why are we always heading to war

Everybody has their battles to win

So what gives us courage to begin

What's the point of competing anyway

Knowing you will not make it through the day

How does hope vanish into the setting sun

How can you see yourself loading a gun

Take aim and take your best shot

Be true to yourself that is what you have got

Don't be a timeless baby be a kid

Get your arse into gear on the starting grid.

Trajectory

Heading off on a trajectory

Don't know what to bring with me

I've got a hollow damaged memory

Swinging on a stick hung from an old oak tree

Bruised while following the beaten path

Sore throat from having the last laugh

Forecasting showers after the bloodbath

Funny when angry funnier with wrath

An eclipse in my orbit

Are you my moon or my sun

We used to play cowboys and Indians

But today it's not that fun

We was taught to be divided

The school playground a Warfield

We was painted thick with old ideas

My mental illness a fragile shield

What memories can be told

Before they fade as we get old

Did we get bitter from the backlash

Stinging nettles temporary rash

Launched into a new dimension

Not going to be the same trajectory

I saw a blue police box coming my way

But they were too polite to save me

I have an invisible monster in my head

Has a stun gun but wants me dead

Didn't foresee I'd get to page 999

In this complicated mess of a life of mine

I didn't want to cut down the trees

I didn't mean to upset the buzzing bees

Collateral damage from a stupid mistake

I poisoned my food and drained the lake

If only I could have seen

Way back then 

That every choice we make

Comes back to haunt you again

The wisps in my red mist

The demons deep in the fauna

The tell-tale signs

Somebody tried to warn you

Miscalculated trajectory

Thought I was heading somewhere new

I tried to escape from my mind deranged

The liars say all your dreams come true

No gold at the end of the rainbow

Just a piss pot below the Arc de Triomphe

As my ghosts get

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: Darren Hobson
Bildmaterialien: Darren Hobson
Cover: Darren Hobson
Lektorat: Darren Hobson
Korrektorat: Darren Hobson
Satz: Darren Hobson
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 22.04.2022
ISBN: 978-3-7554-1233-5

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Widmung:
Dedicated to all the people who still have faith in me even though I don't deserve it.