The Last Enchantment: 01/01/2007 - 02/01/2007 !-- Ne

The Last Enchantment

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Morrissey - Irish Blood English Heart

The State Of The Nation - a remarkable performance from "The Mozzfather". And all in 2 minutes.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Growing Old Gracefully (Like Hell I Will)

Almost cut my hair
It happened just the other day
It was getting kind of long
I could have said it was in my way

But I didn't and I wonder why
I feel like letting my freak flag fly
And I feel like I owe it to someone

Must be because I had the flu for Christmas
And I'm not feeling up to par
It increases my paranoia
Like looking into a mirror and seeing a police car

But I'm not giving in an inch to fear
Cos I promised myself this year
I feel like I owe it to someone

When I finally get myself together
I'm gonna get down in some of that sweet summer weather
I'm going to find a space inside to laugh
Separate the wheat from the chaff

Cos I feel like I owe it, yeah
Said I feel like I owe it, yeah
You know I feel---- like I owe it yeah to someone

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Beyond The Blue Nile



Because of Toledo
Tuesday it's raining
And I'm pulling on my shoes
I guess I quit believing in
The early morning news
There's a boy orders coffee
And he settles down to think
How the women that you love sometimes
Are the water that you drink
Then another faded waitress dressed in pink

Cries for Toledo

The lipstick and the cocaine traces
One face in a thousand faces
I stumble through so many places
Cause of Toledo

Because of Toledo
The highway looks so thin
I see another motel sign
Think of pulling in
Write your name upon the mirror there
The only secret that I know
But I guess that I'd be only chasing rainbows
Back to Toledo
I think I'll go

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Bridget Bardot



My apologies to any female friends who happen to come
across this. I found it whilst surfing the net this afternoon
and liked it so much that I had to use it. It does not necessarily
reflect my own opinions (although it's not too far away!).



Women Are From Penis

  • Women are manipulative. In a relationship, you can tell when a woman is lying to you, because her mouth moves. Women don't want their partners to be honest with them, and they certainly have no intention of being honest with their partners. Honesty is something they keep for their close friends, and the last thing they want to hear from a partner is the honest truth about themselves, the partner, the relationship, their appearance, their career, their taste or anything. However, this is rarely a problem for most women, since in practice their partners are usually kept trapped in some verbal bind or other, in order to make sure that they are still there the next time the woman needs them to go and do something for her.

  • Women are illogical. It is not possible to have a sensible discussion with a woman on any topic, since there is no common ground of logic on which the topic can be discussed. You can always, if you wish, and if the topic is one in which she has some interest, ascertain her opinion on that topic simply by asking, though you must be prepared for an answer which runs to some length, and you must also be prepared to sit through her equally verbose opinions on seven entirely unrelated topics, which she will insist on flitting between unexpectedly at random, sometimes over a period of several years.

  • Women are venal. Their sexuality is somehow directly wired to their partner's bank account. There are no female philanthropists - only men give their money away. While there are many women involved in charity work, you will notice that they are usually involved in events designed to induce other people - not themselves - to donate to the given charity. Naturally, many women involved in charity work earn a good salary for doing so, though it is best to be wearing some kind of armoured suit if you ever propose to actually point this out to them.

  • Women are vain. Unbelievably vain. Never, ever, trust a woman who tries to tell you that really, her appearance isn't at all important to her or her self-image. This is a trap designed ultimately to get you to do something for her, or to get back at you for something, or both. The more attractive a woman appears to be, the more of a minefield the subject of her appearance is likely to become, and there is no way of winning here, because if you don't bring the subject up, she will. Indeed, in addition to being vain, women are dangerous. You wouldn't deliberately spend your life with a tarantula - and anyone with an iota of common sense would approach women with the same kind of attitude.

  • Women are, in short, from Penis. They are mendacious, illogical, venal, self-obsessed psychopaths, and if the one you are involved with hasn't attacked you or conned you out of something yet, the truth is probably that they have, but you haven't realised it. You won't know until you're out of there.

In short, neither men nor women are worth spending one's life with. However, as we shall see, the above intrinsic weaknesses in the vast majority of members of each gender can usually be used, pretty simply, in order to get them to leave of their own accord, as well as to remind ourselves why we wanted them gone in the first place, should we endure a sudden, irrational moment of doubt.


Bridge At Bordeaux



THE CASE FOR BESTIALITY

"My god, you're beautiful in this position!"
Whimpers The Lover
With no view of my face.
"A goat would be stunning
With your cock in it's mouth!"
I accuse.
"I'll come by the office"
He whines, lip curling,
"And you won't say a word
But rise to lock the door
And you'll twirl off your panties
And sit on my face
And bad girls get a spanking by the boss,
Elbows on desk, I'll take your ass
And believe me it will hurt at first
And you'll say STOP and I'll keep
Pounding and I'll be done and you will
Beg for more
And I will leave without a single word."
Calmly we dress and make our exit.
He stops to lock the hotel room door
As if some thief might steal his semen
From the cherry desk or the gold
Pillow or the dice patterned carpet.
At times I worship him, others I think
Bestiality should be legal
And some men who shall remain nameless
Should be strictly limited to goats.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Whatever Happened To Jimmy Webb ?

Spring was never waiting for us, girl
It ran one step ahead
As we followed in the dance
Between the parted pages and were pressed
In love's hot, fevered iron
Like a striped pair of pants

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again
Oh, no!

I recall the yellow cotton dress
Foaming like a wave
On the ground around your knees
The birds, like tender babies in your hands
And the old men playing checkers by the trees

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again
Oh, no!

There will be another song for me
For I will sing it
There will be another dream for me
Someone will bring it
I will drink the wine while it is warm
And never let you catch me looking at the sun
And after all the loves of my life
After all the loves of my life
You'll still be the one

I will take my life into my hands and I will use it
I will win the worship in their eyes and I will lose it
I will have the things that I desire
And my passion flow like rivers through the sky
And after all the loves of my life
After all the loves of my life
I'll be thinking of you
And wondering why

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again
Oh, no!

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Entente Cordiale


Please dont look at me that way,
I can hardly say what I have to say,
There is nothing that I havent told to you
That I didnt believe you knew.

I am thinking of another time
I could feel you thinking that you were mine,
Now I hold out my hands til my arms get tired
And you wait on the other side.

You and me, we're both the same,
Dont let me take all the blame,
I promise that I will do all it takes to make up for my mistakes.

So, Im trying hard to be the man
And its not a hard thing to understand,
For I think that my being would cease to be
If you didnt believe in me, if you didnt believe in me.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Infidels - And The I Street Shuffle.


Spanish Johnny drove in from the underworld last night
With bruised arms and broken rhythm in a beat-up old Buick
But dressed just like dynamite
He tried sellin' his heart to the hard girls over on Easy Street
But they sighed "Johnny it falls apart so easy and you know hearts these days are cheap"
And the pimps swung their axes and said "Johnny you're a cheater."
Well the pimps swung their axes and said "Johnny you're a liar"
And from out of the shadows came a young girl's voice said: "Johnny don't cry"
Puerto Rican Jane, oh won't you tell me what's your name.
I want to drive you down to the other side of town where paradise ain't so crowded, there'll be action goin' down on Shanty Lane tonight
All them golden-heeled fairies in a real bitch fight
Pull .38s and kiss the girls good night

Oh good night, it's alright Jane
Now let them black boys in to light the soul flame
We may find it out on the street tonight baby
Or we may walk until the daylight maybe

Well like a cool Romeo he made his moves, oh she looked so fine
Like a late Juliet she knew he'd never be true but then she really didn't mind
Upstairs a band was playin', the singer was singin' something about goin' home
She whispered, "Spanish Johnny, you can leave me tonight but just don't leave me alone"

And Johnny cried "Puerto Rican Jane, word is down the cops have found the vein"
Oh them barefoot boys left their homes for the woods
Them little barefoot street boys they say homes ain't no good
They left the corners, threw away all their switchblade knives and kissed each other good-bye

Johnny was sittin' on the fire escape watchin' the kids playin' down the street
He called down "Hey little heroes, summer's long but I guess it ain't very sweet around here anymore"
Janey sleeps in sheets damp with sweat, Johnny sits up alone and watches her dream on, dream on
And the sister prays for lost souls, then breaks down in the chapel after everyone's gone

Jane moves over to share her pillow but opens her eyes to see Johnny up and putting his clothes on
She says "Those romantic young boys
All they ever want to do is fight"
Those romantic young boys
They're callin' through the window
"Hey Spanish Johnny, you want to make a little easy money tonight?"
And Johnny whispered:
Good night, it's all tight Jane
I'll meet you tomorrow night on Lover's Lane
We may find it out on the street tonight baby
Or we may walk until the daylight maybe


Tuesday, January 16, 2007

For A Friend ( I couldn't resist it!).



Let us be lovers well marry our fortunes together
Ive got some real estate here in my bag
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies
And we walked off to look for America
Kathy, I said as we boarded a greyhound in Pittsburgh
Michigan seems like a dream to me now
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw
Ive gone to look for America

Laughing on the bus
Playing games with the faces
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy
I said be careful his bowtie is really a camera

Toss me a cigarette, I think theres one in my raincoat
We smoked the last one an hour ago
So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine
And the moon rose over an open field

Kathy, Im lost, I said, though I knew she was sleeping
Im empty and aching and I dont know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
Theyve all gone to look for America
All gone to look for America
All gone to look for America

Monday, January 15, 2007

Seconds Out - Round Two (Bong !)


Snow hard up against my doorway
And its falling twice as fast
Funny I was just thinking of you my friend
How long you were gonna last
Driving those blizzards cross Europe
Snow chains on you back
64 feet of mobile thunder, leaving a ten wheel track

Its good to hear from you, go easy when you can
My day is better for your letter from Amsterdam

I stand alone by the cenotaph
Where the unknown soldier lies
And its somewhere out there that you are
This freedom angel died
To save us from depression
Today I look around, boys our age and younger
I fear we let them down

Its good to hear from you, go easy when you can
My day is better for your letter from Amsterdam

The town squares disappearing
It drifts up to my knees
Midnight silence deafening
And my feet begin to freeze
Is it because we dont remember?
We cannot understand?
But me and the unknown soldier
Got your letter from Amsterdam

Saturday, January 13, 2007

In A White Room ...........



In the white room with black curtains near the station.
Blackroof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings.
Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes.
Dawnlight smiles on you leaving, my contentment.

Ill wait in this place where the sun never shines;
Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves.

Friday, January 12, 2007

For My Daughter Zara - With Love !


O Lord, let me be a burden on my children
For long they've been a burden upon me.
May they fetch and carry, clean and scrub
And do so cheerfully.

Let them take it in turns at putting me up
Nice sunny rooms at the top of the stairs
With a walk-in bath and lift installed
At great expense.....Theirs.

Insurance against the body-blows of time
Isn't that what having children's all about?
To bring them up knowing that they owe you
And can't contract out?

What is money for but to spend on their schooling?
Designer clothes, mindless hobbies, usual stuff.
Then as soon as they're earning, off they go
Well, enough's enough.

It's been a blessing watching them develop
The parental pride we felt as each one grew.
But Lord, let me be a burden on my children
And on my children's children too.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

For The Rose



The words had all been spoken
And somehow the feeling still wasn't right
And still we continued on through the night
Tracing our steps from the beginning
Until they vanished into the air
Trying to understand how our lives has led us there
Looking hard into your eyes
There was nobody I'd ever known
Such an empty surprise to feel so alone

Now for me some words come easy
But I know that they don't mean that much
Compared with the things that are said when lovers touch
You never knew what I loved in you
I don't know what you loved in me
Maybe the picture of somebody you were hoping I might be

Awake again I can't pretend and I know I'm alone
And close to the end of the feeling we've known
How long have I been sleeping
How long have I been drifting alone through the night
How long have I been dreaming I could make it right
If I closed my eyes and tried with all my might
To be the one you need
Awake again I can't pretend and I know I'm alone
And close to the end of the feeling we've known

How long have I been sleeping
How long have I been drifting alone through the night
How long have I been running for that morning flight
Through the whispered promises and the changing light
Of the bed where we both lie
Late for the sky

Saturday, January 06, 2007

For Gary : A Man For All Seasons.



That's very neat. But look now . . . If we lived in a State where virtue was profitable, common sense would make us good, and greed would make us saintly. And we'd live like animals or angels in the happy land that needs no heroes. But since in fact we see that avarice, anger, envy, pride, sloth, lust and stupidity commonly profit far beyond humility, chastity, fortitude, justice and thought, and have to choose, to be human at all . . . why then perhaps we must stand fast a little-even at the risk of being heroes.

30 years my friend and still I remain beyond belief .

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

F.H. - " The End Of The Affair".




Someone's got it in for me, they're planting stories in the press
Whoever it is I wish they'd cut it out but when they will I can only guess.
They say I shot a man named Gray and took his wife to Italy,
She inherited a million bucks and when she died it came to me.
I can't help it if I'm lucky.

People see me all the time and they just can't remember how to act
Their minds are filled with big ideas, images and distorted facts.
Even you, yesterday you had to ask me where it was at,
I couldn't believe after all these years, you didn't know me better than that
Sweet lady.

Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your mouth,
Blowing down the backroads headin' south.
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth,
You're an idiot, babe.
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.

I ran into the fortune-teller, who said beware of lightning that might strike
I haven't known peace and quiet for so long I can't remember what it's like.
There's a lone soldier on the cross, smoke pourin' out of a boxcar door,
You didn't know it, you didn't think it could be done, in the final end he won the wars
After losin' every battle.

I woke up on the roadside, daydreamin' 'bout the way things sometimes are
Visions of your chestnut mare shoot through my head and are makin' me see stars.
You hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies.
One day you'll be in the ditch, flies buzzin' around your eyes,
Blood on your saddle.

Idiot wind, blowing through the flowers on your tomb,
Blowing through the curtains in your room.
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth,
You're an idiot, babe.
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.

It was gravity which pulled us down and destiny which broke us apart
You tamed the lion in my cage but it just wasn't enough to change my heart.
Now everything's a little upside down, as a matter of fact the wheels have stopped,
What's good is bad, what's bad is good, you'll find out when you reach the top
You're on the bottom.

I noticed at the ceremony, your corrupt ways had finally made you blind
I can't remember your face anymore, your mouth has changed, your eyes
don't look into mine.
The priest wore black on the seventh day and sat stone-faced while the building
burned.
I waited for you on the running boards, near the cypress trees, while the springtime
turned Slowly into autumn.

Idiot wind, blowing like a circle around my skull,
From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol.
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth,
You're an idiot, babe.
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.

I can't feel you anymore, I can't even touch the books you've read
Every time I crawl past your door, I been wishin' I was somebody else instead.
Down the highway, down the tracks, down the road to ecstasy,
I followed you beneath the stars, hounded by your memory
And all your ragin' glory.

I been double-crossed now for the very last time and now I'm finally free,
I kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me.
You'll never know the hurt I suffered nor the pain I rise above,
And I'll never know the same about you, your holiness or your kind of love,
And it makes me feel so sorry.

Idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats,
Blowing through the letters that we wrote.
Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves,
We're idiots, babe.
It's a wonder we can even feed ourselves.