Days Volume Two

* O the valley in the summer where I and my John Beside the deep river would walk on and on While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love, And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball, The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud; 'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera When music poured out of each wonderful star? Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down Over each silver and golden silk gown; 'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say: But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O but he was fair as a garden in flower, As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower, When the waltz throbbed out on the long promen

* The piano has been drinking, my necktie is asleep And the combo went back to New York, the jukebox has to take a leak And the carpet needs a haircut, and the spotlight looks like a prison break And the telephone's out of cigarettes, and the balcony is on the make And the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking... And the menus are all freezing, and the light man's blind in one eye And he can't see out of the other And the piano-tuner's got a hearing aid, and he showed up with his mother And the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking As the bouncer is a sumo wrestler cream-puff casper milktoast And the owner is a mental midget with the IQ of a fence post 'cause the piano has been drinking, the piano has been drinking... And you can't find your waitress with a Geiger counter And she hates you and your friends and you just can't get served without her And the box-office is drooling, and the bar stools are on fire And

* As I walked out one evening, Walking down Bristol Street, The crowds upon the pavement Were fields of harvest wheat. And down by the brimming river I heard a lover sing Under an arch of the railway: 'Love has no ending. 'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you Till China and Africa meet, And the river jumps over the mountain And the salmon sing in the street, 'I'll love you till the ocean Is folded and hung up to dry And the seven stars go squawking Like geese about the sky. 'The years shall run like rabbits, For in my arms I hold The Flower of the Ages, And the first love of the world.' But all the clocks in the city Began to whirr and chime: 'O let not Time deceive you, You cannot conquer Time. 'In the burrows of the Nightmare Where Justice naked is, Time watches from the shadow And coughs when you would kiss. 'In headaches and in worry Vaguely life leaks away, And Time will have his fancy To-mor

* Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good. W.H. Auden. They shouted at windows at him, "murderer", time encusted on every lamp post. When a srikingly handsome, charismatic, alright gorgeous, fascinating and personable young woman started going on about how she might bonk a really old person, say someone

* Where I come from, no one knows Where I'm going I can't disclose but I'll wear no labels upon my clothes on the day of my ascension I deal the pack by remote control I pluck straight aces from a garbage hole but I won't take with me what I can't hold on the day of my ascension Chorus From this moment on, all laws are reversed Truth will be revealed to the creatures of this earth on the day of my ascension There's always someone I have to lose I've got 4 freeways from which to choose I'll have 8 exits that I can use on the day of my ascension People love me, well, people try I have to leave them all by end by Some day I'll leave them high and dry on the day of my ascension Where I come from no-one knows Where I'm going I can't disclose The angels will shriek when the engine blows on the day of my ascension The Triffids "I heard 'hotel room' and I was there," the young man, a friend of his son, babbled excitedly; and they al

* On stinking hot days when the ground burns your feet You stare at the ceiling; the trains break your sleep The roads have got pot holes, and your car falls apart And the milkbar attendant would like to sell up And our neighbours hold on to the things they know best They sweep out verandahs and cry for their kids The primary school children on the gravel school yard They've got grins that start one side and go all around Happy as they play make-believe games with themselves For a while And it's the older Greek women who are the ones dressed in black Not new wave guitarists with cows on their backs And the Thistle Hotel is a dream on it's own And every pool table has blood on the cloth The motor car workshop has dogs chained and tied to the fence For the night And the further you travel the longer it takes Your car takes a beating, the roads aren’t the best And I don't think the Colbys have been out to Thomastown And somehow I doubt that they will Somehow I doubt that t

* I recall a schoolboy coming home Through fields of cane To a house of tin and timber And in the sky A rain of falling cinders From time to time The waste memory-wastes I recall a boy in bigger pants Like everyone Just waiting for a chance His father’s watch He left it in the showers From time to time The waste memory-wastes I recall a bigger brighter world A world of books And silent times in thought And then the railroad The railroad takes him home Through fields of cattle Through fields of cane From time to time The waste memory-wastes The waste memory-wastes Further, longer, higher, older Cattle and Cane, The Go Betweens. He couldn't believe he had been robbed, yet again. Show the slightest vulnerability and they attack. These are the country's allegedly "most vulnerable". But it's perfectly alright for them to call us "white c...s". Why? Was the grumbling old right winger rising in him again, that one who had embarrassed him before, ranting against

* I opened a notebook, it read The Darlinghurst Years I snapped it shut but out jumped some tears I didn't have to read it, it all came back Dragging my fingers through my hair Hiding behind her back Gut rot cappuccino, gut rot spaghetti Gut rot rock'n'roll through the eyes of Frank Brunetti And always the traffic, always the lights Joe played the cello through those Darlinghurst Nights One more coffee and I must go Back to my room more chapters to go We'll meet up in an alley with more places I know I'm going to change my appearance everyday I'm going to write a movie and then I'm going to star in a play I'm going to go to Caracas because you know I'm just going to have to get away Marjorie and Kim, Andy and Clint, Debbie, Bertie, people came and went And then there was Suzie who we never ever saw again And always the traffic always the lights Climbing that hill star studded nights Joe played the cello Alright. The Go Betweens, Darlinghurst Nights.