Any comments/criticism should be forwarded to the hole in my head

I Fell Into A Trap - Hole

Would you love me yesterday?
Can you let me have a say?
We can make a secret pact
Baby you don’t have to act

Taxi ride to take us home
You’re just short babe not a gnome
Short is sexy just the same
You will be famous have your name

I still want you want and your soul
Secret chamber manifold
I have forged a secret key
To lock me in your memory

On the eighth year you’ll get bronze
You play Pinkie I’ll play the Fonz
Yesteryear was yesterday
Can you come outside for us to play

You still look good I make nice food
Serve it up I’ll eat it down
I still like to see you smile one day
Frown’s smile turned upside down

Do you still love me
One one one three
Do I stand here
Absolutely 

Look how I love you
Won’t stand above you
You can wear the 
Trousers dear

Play date has a special cost
Turn me ‘round twice and I am lost
GPS lost to navigate
No excuse now to be late

Special features
Whales on beaches
New infection
Money back

Vitamins to thin the blood
Pussy juices they did flood
Your taste is on my lips right now
You wonder still I wonder how

I still like the view
I’ll never leave you
You’re the one
That makes me numb

Would You Love Me?

Somebody recently told me that our music is not Punk. 
Anybody doing anything with a disability is as Punk as it gets. We hope this one fits the bill of "traditional Punk"

The West Coast of New Zealand is one of the most beautiful places on the planet, with some of the windiest roads on the planet.

I had trouble with my ears as a lad and used to spew all the time on long drives

Please Stop the Car I am Going to be Sick 8 yrs Old

Flop F

Digital Foreplay



Let the wi-fi in
Open the window
I am plugged into the wall
Still tall
Big balls
Digital Foreplay
Objection that’s here say
Paralysed 
but not rich 
like
Reeve
Used to like walking
Take my advice
Stay clean stay nice
Waiting for Godot
-
not answered
I invented the wheel
But poor so I steal
Killed by my boss
No sorry for the loss
Fixed dilated pupils
Plug me into power
Sixty minutes an hour
No cochlear implant
I’d stand up but I can’t
Rub my hard drive
Dead on arrival
The craniotomy
Is why she’s 
forgotten me
It’s based on survival
I was born in the seventies
So save me your pleasantries
Put my RAM into port

Recorder now cool
I dropped the tool
Won’t stop ringing
So I better not stop singing
I’ll go mental
It’s borrowed rental
Screeching sound
It’s loud
Welcome to my world
Not the right pitch 
Sound is a bitch
Please don’t mistake my ease
I love the woman
All of her
I love her

Digital Foreplay (handjob)

Flummoxed

Looks don’t matter when you’re over the hill
An exercise in futility
Check my fertility
Harvard not yale
Drink lager 
Not Ale
The for-sale sign
May I please resign 
From the board
See that woman I scored
Irish love the Pogues
Madonna’s not in vogue
Shane McGowan
Love how he’s howling
Howling Wolf
Scored a milf
Say I went off the rails
As the sail boat sails
I am ignorant
Dumb and vapid
I bit the dog I was rabid 

Head dent
Watch her she’s bent
Wants help with the rent
Looks don’t matter when you’re over the hill
Won’t help pay the bill
Credit card shark fin
Put me in bin
I need a recharge
Swim behind the barge
Pick up the last card
Squeeze the splinter shard
Of wood
Where I once stood
Now wheel banana peel
For where I slipped 
Up
Half-full the cup
Optimism reign
Must be insane
Crazy like a coconut
But need I say
I fired today
Apprentice
Could you say less
Words
In the suburbs
Tea in cupboards
She hung her weapons 
Out to dry
First try was not
 awarded
Rewards in the oak draws
Hold on your applause 
She hit the zenith
Like the frequency Kenneth

it’s for the greater good
I said I probably should
Listen
Juices glisten
She said 
You look like some punk
But please pass me the junk
E
I’m not William Burroughs
Living off smack
Pack and whack it off
Wears no mask
Watch them cough
Virus in her lungs
On the ladder rung
She’s climbing 
Still sighing 
Bacon’s frying in the pan
Should I be your man?
I could do better
Scarlet the letter
Looks don’t matter when you’re over the hill
She took the pill
Scratch acid
High made me flaccid
So I fucked her neighbour
I did her a favour
I ran the world when I was young
Now I can’t find fun

Looks Don't Matter (when You're Over The Hill)

It has been a bad week let alone the month or the year                                Therefore all you get is this

Indentured Braveness B-side

For all the kid’s that didn’t make it

I can’t see where you are
or watcha doing
I don’t know your address
or who you’re screwing

You still love me babe
‘cause it’s still showing
Watch me eat my dust
‘cause I’m still going

Your name is still tattooed 
up on my arm
I heard You sold our house
And bought a farm

The interest is still 
piling up around you
I stayed up late against the night
your curfew

I’m going to take my love to open court
That’s really not my date that’s an escort
You stomped upon my love you fucking tart
You pulled out and trampled on my heart

I don’t know how you are
Or where you’re going
But watch me put the brakes on
You’ll start slowing

The answer has been there
From the start
You can be Picasso 
I’ll make art

Tendrils Of Love (that Reach Out To Greet Me)2

ACTION BEATS REAXTION EVERYTIME

We can’t take this
Subtract dismiss
Can you help me?
We can make we
I saw distress
Made her head mess
Can I help her?
Loan on defer
There’s no escape
I know heartache
I can’t wake dawn
I’m too forlorn

Public distress
Outed mistress
They need some space
To forget disgrace

Can you help me
Nestle softly
I will help you
Meat for the stew
The amalgam
Me rough you glam
We can’t take this

Action Beats Reaction Everytime

The Neo-infantiles are a  band that claim to not be a band, just killing time. The only thing they have in common is being disabled. The Boofer only has one arm and sings and plays the guitar, badly. Breakage plays the drums and has no legs, Breakage has asked me to not disclose that he has no legs (sucker to trust me). Heard plays the bass, badly again, and is profoundly deaf in one of his King Lear's and lives with a screeching noise in it and does not care what he sounds like (I love him like I love me). Forget plays guitar too but Forget has had a severe-traumatic scone injury and never remembers any of the songs. He tries his hardest though and he is also like a brother. Pain builds unity. Then there is Shakes who hangs around and sings sometimes, he has post-traumatic Epilepsy and often fits, spits, froths and shakes. The ladies, punk ladies, love him the most even although he often pisses his pants



STBI has left me more than half-deaf so if the tones are off, don't shoot me. If writing stories is mind masturbation, then what do you call writing songs? >> Still the most pleasant part of my day

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