THE ANARCHIST
Roland Michel Tremblay
Translated from French by the Scottish author
Sheila
MacLeod
www.themarginal.com/anarchist.htm
www.themarginal.com/anarchist.doc
www.themarginal.com/anarchist.pdf
Black Poetry
(if
you want)
This book has now been published in French by IDLivre.com and is the most popular book they ever printed.
The rights for the English version are available. Please contact me if you are interested: rm@themarginal.com
French version / Version française: www.lemarginal.com/anarchiste.htm
Warning: this book is not for anyone I know, anyone who has aged too
quickly.
I have no need for your judgements, keep them for yourself!
44E The Grove,
Isleworth, Middlesex, London, TW7 4JF, UK
Tel/Fax +44 (0)20
8847 5586, Mobile: +44 (0)794 127 1010
rm@themarginal.com www.themarginal.com www.themarginal.com
The Collective Soul is Rotting
Perverted
animal, knowing the whole world of sex
I’ve
thoroughly penetrated you and I remember
This
makes me just as perverted as you
Aren’t
we happy together
In
our slum, forever arguing
And
getting nowhere
Life
is sweet when there’s nothing but perversion
To
lead us to the heights
Being
there with you I meet human consciousness head on
Observing,
recognising itself, and dying with us
The
collective soul is just as rotten as ours
Because
we are its progeny
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
Ah,
I must empty my heart
Of
all its rottenness
I’m
so far from fulfilment and inner peace
I
yearn to die as I yearn to kill
No
light on the horizon
And
yet I know all about mysticism
Know
how to reach spirituality
Find
God
But
it’s all from the mind
Nothing
from the heart
I’m
incapable of love
But
capable of death
My
sensitivity is useless
I
could destroy humanity with my violent thoughts
No
faith, no hope
I’m
corrupt
As
corrupt as you could have wished
I’m
corrupt to the marrow of my bones
I
suffer from an incurable disease
Fluttering
in my brain
Gnawing
at my bones and offering me doubt
Pain,
unhappiness
I
walk with the weight of my guilt
Through
streets punctuated with churches
Knowing
right from wrong at last and doing wrong
They’ve got me
My
thoughts are no longer my own
I’ve
fallen into their net
I’ve
listened, swallowed, digested
I
suffer from an incurable disease
Called
God
I’m
an explosion of places
A
multitude of times
There
are several versions of me
I
follow this path or that while believing I’m following my destiny
But
it makes me suffer so much
To
know I’m following a beaten track and living too intensely
I
try to accept, to experience, everything
Although
I could easily spare myself
I’m
an explosion of places
A
multitude of times
I
chase all sorts of possibilities
I
follow this path or that, I’m my own destiny
It
makes me suffer so much
But
I’m learning to get acquainted with life
Acquainted
with the lives of others
They’re
just like mine
I’m
an explosion of places
A
multitude of times
But
I still feel I’m nothing
Grubby
and ugly, empty and worthless
How
can such a heap of meat follow a destiny?
Three minutes have gone by
The world begins to wonder
Where is it now?
Then my heart beats wildly
I turn on my computer and click on my electronic sheep
It looks at me, hums, walks around and produces
strange noises
This really cheers me up
My little sheep . . .
Then I begin to cry, for everything there is to cry
about
Then it sneezes and I’m happy again for a moment
It jumps higher and higher
Leaps up on to the words in these lines
And this really cheers me up
And I cry more than ever
And I realise that I really love this virtual sheep
That it’s the only thing in the whole world that can
stop me crying
But then I realise just how sad I’ve become
When a virtual animal is all that I have
And I really don’t know what I’d do without it
How could I have become so sad?
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
I
went into a church on Sunday
With
the latest edition of Let Us Pray in Church
I
kissed the congregation, fulfilling my destiny
Doing
a favour to those in need of love
The
priest smiled broadly, delighting in this joyous Mass
He
thanked me and absolved me from my sins
Absolution,
nothing too wicked for God to forgive
I
went into a church on Sunday
With
the latest model of a gun
I
fired on the congregation, fulfilling my destiny
Doing
a favour to those who no longer saw clearly
The
priest smiled broadly, delighting in this deathly Mass
He
thanked me and absolved me from my sins
Absolution,
nothing too wicked for God to forgive
Your Children Are All Empty
Vessels
(and Sex-Obsessed!)
I’ve
watched them, hyperactive and spiteful
Utterly
empty-headed, blissful in their ignorance
Vegetables,
like me, in the scheme of things
Learning
stupidities for filling little pitchers
But
they’re all cracked, spilling their contents on the floor instead of being able
to act or question authority
Not
one of them who doesn’t dream of flying out the window
Or
making love with the person next to them
Most
of them are already on drugs
And
you, for the love of heaven, want to see these empty vessels do well
Your
empty vessels will be successful and cracked at the same time
No
matter, your children will be cracked for all eternity
How
beautiful life is when your truth pours out from the mouths of your children
I
sacrifice myself for one and all
I
come forward telling the truth
Bearing
witness, as I must, to my experience
I
describe my perversion, my immorality, in detail
Listen,
they spit on me, trample me, and I don’t give a toss any more
I’m
here, it’s today
I’m
not, unlike you, a mass of defences, ready to spring into action
A
tissue of falsehoods for justifying my failures
Fifty-six
ways to camouflage the truth
Here
it is utterly naked in front of you
Open
your eyes and learn a lesson from it
You’ll
never be better than me
You’ll
never be worth more than me
I’m
the one who confronts life
I’m
the one who confronts truth
Have a Nice Cup of Tea, My
Dear
«We
don’t need all this violence, this rowdy music, these indecent pictures»
«When
you’re older, you’ll change, you’ll understand, I hope»
«You’ve
got two choices left: law or medicine»
«You’ve
got to have this diploma and these qualifications at least»
«What
you should do now is watch others and do as they do»
«Why
aren’t you doing it?»
«Where
were you last night? Your life is ruled by sex»
«You
don’t dabble in drugs, I hope. Remember alcohol’s a drug too»
«You
have no idea of right and wrong»
«You
must keep trying, one day you’ll get it right»
«Have
a nice cup of tea, my dear»
And
choke on it!
It’s
the truth as you’ll never know it
It’s
serial infidelity by women as much as by men
It’s
such a revulsion with life that a whole chemist’s shop couldn’t cure it
It’s
separation, divorce, depression, abortion
It’s
short-lived affairs where sex is what matters most
It’s
a decent bottle of Scotch or of Cognac
It’s
a packet of cigarettes harbouring cancer to gnaw at your guts
It’s
random, street-corner death for a thousand and one reasons
It’s
a struggle for power or money where no one’s the outright winner
It’s
a high-class bitch who knows everything and subjects you to her morals from
hell
It’s
a whore who’s been humped by a businessman and dies from an overdose of coke
It’s
a gaggle of neuroses meeting up to reinforce each other
It’s
the Pope saying the opposite of what he thinks in the name of we don’t know
what
It’s
a country owned by big, rich companies
It’s
lives in hock to banks
It’s
ubiquitous hypocrisy
It’s
institutionalised slavery
It’s
political corruption at every level
It’s
God dead and buried
Resplendent
in her lovely garish frock
Breasts
bursting with hormones
Wig
of hair piled half a yard at least on top of her head
She
was really beautiful, my slag
Singing
to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day
Counting
her ex-boy friends in the bar, they came to far too many
I
took her, just as she was, back to my hotel room
They
must have thought I’d found a whore and not been too fussy about it
But
I kissed her, sucked her, fucked her inside out, my slag
She
was as docile as a bitch on heat who asks for more, my slag
I
should have snatched the wig off my slag
Deflated
the ballooning breasts of my slag
Clawed
off her frock and her buttocks, my slag
Finally
killed her with pleasure, my slag
Last
night I fucked the town slag
And
now I feel free
It’s Par for the Course in
New York
I’d
hardly set foot in this great American city and already we were having sex in a
taxi
«But
that’s par for the course in New York»
Then
we went out, found ourselves at an orgy, with everyone at it all round us
«But
that’s par for the course in New York»
Then
we met a surgeon, aged seventy, who wanted us to make up a threesome
«But
that’s par for the course in New York»
Then
I met a hundred and one people you’d slept with in one year
«But
that’s par for the course in New York»
Then
I saw your sixty credit cards, all of them over the limit
«But
that’s par for the course in New York»
For
you I worked in a mafia restaurant, swarming with rats and cockroaches
«But
that’s par for the course in New York»
I
met your psychiatrist friend who prescribed some amazing pills for me
«But
that’s par for the course in New York»
With
you I caught several sexually transmitted diseases
«But
that’s par for the course in New York»
I
even saved you from a drug-induced suicide where you coughed up blood
«But
that’s par for the course in New York»
For
all those things, I love you
«Ah,
that’s not par for the course in New York»
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
Drink Up Your Whisky, Old
Girl, and Cheat Death
Every
day God grants, I get up and go to the Off Licence
I
buy two half-bottles of whisky for the old girl dying of cancer
She’s
got three months to live, they tell me, so I say to her:
Drink
up your whisky, old girl, and cheat death!
It’s
been five years now since they first gave her three months to live
So
the whisky is obviously keeping her going
And
so every day God grants I get up and go the Off Licence
I
buy two half-bottles of whisky for the old girl dying of cancer and I tell her:
Drink
up your whisky, old girl, and cheat death!
Knowing
it’s God who’s sent me, she thanks me profusely
Taking
the first glass diluted with water, then drinking it neat
Next
day the nurse finds her out cold, picks up the empty bottles
Crosses
herself but remarks that it seems to work better than morphine
So
every day God grants I get up and go to the Off Licence
I
buy two half-bottles of whisky for the old girl dying of cancer and I tell her:
Drink
up your whisky, old girl, and cheat death!
I
watched you from the back of the bar, felt sorry for you
Blatantly
lacking in personality, you were just a hanger-on
Lost,
new to this world, you walk wondering if you have the right to do so
But
come on, for the love of heaven, get up and walk!
Stop
breathing in what others have breathed out
Direct
your energy to your surroundings
Claim
your place, be a mover and shaker of this world
We’re
not a lost generation
We’re
a generation landed with ramshackle structures
This
is no time for stupefaction, it’s a time to destroy and rebuild
Motivation
destruction inspiration construction
Come
on, my boy, we’ll make a man of you yet
Me,
an anarchist?
No
way, my friend, you’re quite mistaken
I’m
an alchemist, which is altogether something else
I
transform the rotten human heart into something palatable
Capitalism
and Communism into something else not yet invented
Compulsory
moral values into something not yet invented
The
whole human race into something not yet invented
Sublimation
of everything into something other
Than
the systematic destruction of everything
This
is no mean claim
Anarchy
exists, is necessary for change, but never lasts long
Soon
people are killing each other and someone then takes control
Anarchy
is not enough, we must have alchemy
That’s
why I’m an alchemist
Without
hell, no heaven
Without
the devil, no God
Without
mediocrity, no excellence
Without
death, no life
Without
darkness, no light
Without
unhappiness, no happiness
Without
immorality, no morality
Without
mortality, no immortality
Without
perversion, no purity
Without
evil, no good
Evil
is therefore essential
Long
live evil!
In
a world of competition I’ve learned my lesson well
Out
of my way, punk, or you’ll get what the others got
You
can judge me, destroy me, condemn me
But
you’ll have that on your conscience
Take
advantage of the situation, strike, kill, step into your victim’s shoes
Even
when you revel in it, we call this climbing the ladder
You
get there with motivation but mainly with a good kick up the arse
The
best killers are those who get to the top
Pope,
King, President, Prime Minister, Minister
Swanning
around in limos when they don’t have their private jets
Lesser
weasels have waded through shoals of shit to get where they are
You’ll
find them heading companies, organisations, financial and educational
institutions
We
don’t get to the top by accident, integrity would kill us
Everywhere
I follow the social pattern
I
strike and I kill
The
other day, looking the harmless tourist, I was strolling by Buckingham Palace
I
looked at the flowers, although it was dark,
not
knowing if the Queen could see me from her royal window
Unluckily
for me I had a weapon but we should be allowed to defend ourselves,
even
against the Queen
They
trained their guns on me, all round me the click of their catches
I
went on examining the flowers, though fully aware of the threat
Lights
blazed, loudspeakers began to bellow
Puzzled
and panicked, I took out my weapon, held it up under the lights
They
stepped back, their guns clicking again (the first time being only a warning)
They
all took a look at my weapon: a harmless tourist’s camera
-
You bunch of idiots, I was looking at the flowers!
Yesterday,
having nothing to eat and nowhere to go, I went to look for a job
I
found the three tallest buildings in town, the ones over fifty floors
The
first one said Bank of something or other
-Good
morning, I’ve seen your wonderful premises,
the
thousands of jobs you have, so here I am
«But,
my boy, we’re serious here, we work hard»
-Oh?
And what do you do? I’m hungry and I need a place to sleep
«Well,
we manage everyone’s money and deal with economics»
-Do
people need all this to have their money managed and their economics dealt
with?
«Get
out, you ignorant fool, you don’t understand how modern businesses work!»
The
second huge building was called something like Mutual Life
«Here
we sell insurance, pensions, Treasury benefits, formalities galore»
-But
what you’re selling is wind! And you charge a fortune for that?
«Wind,
is it? Insolent upstart! Our services are all essential and legally ratified,
The
papers drawn up by the best professionals, it’s a lot of hard work!
There
are 25,000 people working in this building!»
-
What? 25,000 professionals with nice fat salaries for filling and filing forms?
«Get
out, young innocent, get wise to the real world,
the
great big serious world of modern business»
The
third huge building was filled to the brim with lawyers,
spilling
out of the top-floor windows
-I
want a lawyer at once to help me understand my rights and liberties in these
companies
«And
how much money do you have, young man?»
-One
dollar, look how lovely the Queen is on my dollar
«Get
out, you cheeky young fool, you’d need 500,000 of those dollars to hire a
lawyer
And
even at that price he’d be crooked!»
Poor
innocent that I am, I must have missed the boat
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
Stop Puking
All Over Me
Fine by me going out with you
Fine by me drinking half the bar with you
Fine by me making dangerous love with various objects
tearing my insides
Fine by me exchanging our sighs and saliva till we
choke on our own CO2
No problem piercing genital organs with rings
Bring me your instruments of torture, your whips, your
leather gear, your wedding dresses
Hard drugs too, you know I love you, I’d do anything
for you, even die of an overdose
If you rape me like an animal I don’t mind
Introduce me to Satanism, the Black Mass with animal
sacrifice, that’s still fine
Throw me out on the street for three days, then take
me back, that’s OK
I’m happy to go to those places where they swap
partners
And watch illegal porno films where people do
unbelievable, unimaginable things
The hell you offer me I accept as paradise
If you want me to piss in your mouth or shit on your
face, I’m still up for it
But please, please, please, stop puking all over me
God Loves Me
Quickly, quickly, I went down the stairs of a dark
sleazy club in New York
Someone injected me with something which brought me
straight back to the surface
Even higher than the surface, I travelled through
space
Angels surrounded me, like countless embodiments of
the Virgin Mary
How wonderful I felt!
Absolute fulfilment which only the truly spiritual can
reach
I found myself face to face with God
God said to me:
I love you!
It hit me like a huge gust of fresh air, I stayed
stunned by it
Back on earth I took a plane to see my friends and
tell them the good news:
God loves me!
They called the police and I found myself in a
psychiatric
hospital where I stayed for several days
I went through a cure of total detox (although they
prescribed other drugs for me)
Now I see clearly:
God doesn’t love me!
My Life Is
Ruled By Sex
…and the same thing the next day
Whether it’s the tube to Piccadilly Circus or the
subway to Washington Square
I’ve only got one destination: Soho
I go to the village, go into a pub or a club
Parade my spare-time English, my sad little eyes, my
innocent face,
looking all round me at once!
And it’s going on in every direction, all sides, I
must learn to control myself
Then suddenly someone looks at me, this is the green
light
In less than a second there I am there
So you live with your parents? You’re a Catholic?
No, no, what am I saying…:
You want to come to my place?
And there we make love like a storm unleashed from the
sky
We kiss each other all over, lick, devour, masturbate,
cry out and come
Afterwards we lie back, neither of us asks any
questions, we part
And the same thing the next day…
Poor Little
Thing
He’s got new shoes, poor little thing
He lives with his parents, poor little thing
He goes to the University of Toronto, poor little
thing
He’s got a career in front of him, poor little thing
He’s got a good job now, poor little thing
He’s saving thousands of dollars, poor little thing
Soon he’ll buy a house, poor little thing
He’s got a beautiful blonde on his arm, poor little
thing
He’ll have children, poor little thing
He’ll have a condo in Florida, poor little thing
He’ll have a whole apartment block in the centre of
Toronto, poor little thing
He’ll be rich, his fortune amassing over the years,
poor little thing
But he’ll be unhappy, poor little thing
None of his dreams coming true, poor little thing
At fifty he’ll go through his menopause, poor little
thing
He won’t understand, he’ll have regrets, be remorseful,
poor little thing
His uneventful past will resurface, he’ll find plenty
to be sorry about, poor little thing
He’ll need help and drugs, poor little thing
Then cancer will carry him off, poor little thing
Poor little thing
My Head’s
About to Explode
This morning, in the next hour, this is what I should
do:
My tax returns
A CV and some job applications
Answer letters, pay bills
Deal with demands from my bank about my overdraft
Find some money and something to eat
Find somewhere to live, I’m being evicted in two days
Find the love of my life, I’m in despair
My head’s about to explode
In fact, what I have to do this morning is this:
Sell some of my non-essential belongings
Buy an airline ticket for who cares where
Take a look at what’s left then: nothing
Start all over again
My head’s about to explode!
In fact what I really have to do this morning is much
simpler:
Go to sleep and never wake up again
I Pissed on
the Sorbonne
The bells of the Sorbonne are ringing
It’s the day I wrecked my whole course
The day I abandoned it all
And then got completely rat-arsed
On wine like a real old wino
I burnt all my papers
Junked all my notes
I ran through the streets
Saint-Germain, Saint-Michel
To the Place de la Sorbonne, came to a halt
I unzipped, I pissed
Yes, I pissed on the Sorbonne, but that’s nothing, I
should have shat on it
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
He holds me with his shaking hands, asks me for a kiss
We sit on a balcony overlooking Central Park
He falls asleep with his head on my stomach, listening
to it rumble
Oh my dear sugar daddy, where would I be without you?
In the street, where I spend all my time
You feed me, listen to me, appreciate me
You see in me what no one else can see
In your eyes I’m master of everything
The world belongs to me, I just have to reach out my
hand
According to you I’m intelligent, handsome, a part of
this world
He watches me as best he can, gets me to sign bills
for him
I drive him wherever he wants in his Mercedes,
go with him to concerts, the theatre, five-star
restaurants
He feels he can never do enough for me, is afraid I’ll
disappear without warning
He swears absolute fidelity, keeps me company every
minute of my life
He gives me affection, shares his cat’s affection with
me too
He takes me to his holiday home in Connecticut, his
condo in Fort Lauderdale
Opens his bar to me, goes with me through the
wonderful throes of alcohol
He takes me by the arm, I support him as he walks
He really loves me and I love him in return
He talks about his will, but I don’t want to hear
about it
Head waiters smile at our entrance, but I ignore them
I’m travelling first class now, when I used to hang
around street corners
Our friends are all worthwhile people, cultured and
civilised
I help him to dress, he helps me to undress
He likes to see me asleep and naked in his bed, he
watches over me
He washes me, nothing in the world gives him more
pleasure,
he thinks I have «a magnificent dick»
He knows how to thank me in his own way, opens the
doors of the world to me
He’s the only person who thinks I’m someone
I love falling asleep in his arms
He’s my only father
Vaginaphobia
I see her coming a long way off, give her a big,
embarrassed smile
Her eyes insist, but I’m still shy
She takes the initiative, buys me a glass of wine
And we talk about a thousand and one things, music,
poetry, the eternal flame
She lives in the West End, carries me in off in her
BMW, even opens the door for me
She invites me to a restaurant in a hotel in Baker
Street
I’m the only one listening to the pianist playing
Brahms in the background
She tells me she’s rich and successful, socially and
otherwise
She becomes more insistent, I more uncomfortable
When she shows her legs I feel a wave of nausea
Finally she puts her hand on me, asks me up to her
room
I go up with her, we make ourselves at home, I’ve had
several glasses of wine
She undresses me slowly, so far so good
She puts my penis in her mouth, so far I’m still
breathing
She puts her finger up my arse, then licks it, I’m
very impressed
But then she insists that I take off her skirt
Where’s the emergency exit?
I take off her shirt, her tie, her waistcoat and her
skirt
There she is naked in front of me, a big lump, her
cunt prominent
My friend, it’s time to take flight!
I’m Your Leader
I head a new Anarchist movement, proclaiming the
advent of a new Christ
In other words, me
I gather together those who are sickened by life
Those who can no longer bear the weight of rules and
laws
Who no longer want to hear what they must or must not
do
Who have had enough of living by the precepts of other
people
I’m your leader
Through me we’ll make them listen to reason
We’ll destroy their way of thinking and ruling
We’ll rethink the world
I’ve come to this world to clean up the Capitalist
system
I’ve come to this world to call everything into
question
You’re going to hear us
You’re going to stop in your tracks
You’re going to think about what you’re doing
You’re going to see that I’m right
I’m Unreachable
Who am I? A name on an endless list
Where am I? In West 9, Fourteenth arrondissemnt,
88th Street uptown, Church Street downtown
How am I really living, what am I really saying?
How do you find me, talk to me, tell me your problems?
How to sit down with me and listen before you start
judging me?
Words on a page, we know what they’re worth
I’m no one and everyone at the same time
I’m just a vague shape but I walk with you every day
Turn your head and you’ll see me
I’m your innate unconscious
I tell you what you want to hear
The life you’d like to live without ever admitting it,
especially to other people
Perhaps you don’t dream enough
Achieving nothing fit to be recorded in the
balance-sheet of a passionate life
Could you die today and say: everything’s been
achieved,
I can die happy, I’ve done what I set out to do,
What I burned to do from the very core of my being?
Who am I? Who am I?
Do I really exist and where do I really want to be?
I’m
Irresponsible
I can’t hold down a job
It’s impossible for me to sit still
I suck people’s blood till I’ve bled them dry
I always manage somehow to take a plane somewhere
I footle about all day
Look for affection on street corners
Spend all the money which has the misfortune to find
its way into my pockets
I despise everybody without exception
I despise everything without exception
Life has no meaning for me
I celebrate death in my free time
Drink alcohol the way you drink water
Smoke something some countries forbid
Do worse than that, but I know when to shut up
I’m irresponsible
But I live life to the full
My Mea Culpa
Must we pay for our mistakes?
Can we be forgiven a life of misery?
Where do I go for a refund?
I want to take back this life which I don’t remember
asking for
I’ve lost it in trying as best I could to make it
liveable
Nothing works, I promise you
Always and everywhere unlucky
I pay all the time for the least of my actions
Will you forgive me the hell I’ve made of my life?
Will you understand it’s better than the hell you’ve
prepared for me?
I was born sick, seriously so
I’m in no way responsible for my destiny
Couldn’t sit happily in my own skin
Nothing could have kept me alive if I’d had to work a
nine to five day
Hear my will, while there’s still time
I leave you the guilt of my existence
Stuff it up your arse
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
My Devolution,
My Revolution
The more I go forward, the more I get bogged down
The evolution of the human race must be following the
same path
An evolution in reverse
Going in the opposite direction to the one it should
normally take
But hang on a moment
Which direction should we be going in to make it
evolution?
Up or down, where’s up, where’s down?
Can we help getting bogged down when everything
directs us to death?
An evolution in reverse, if such it can be called, is
still evolution
Evolution has so many implications, the getting of
knowledge
Personal experiences unknown to those who think them
evil
I know more than that about life, see much further
Don’t we have to descend into hell to find wisdom?
My devolution, my revolution
Throw Me Away
After Use
I’m non-returnable, even if it’s against the law
Can’t be recycled, the machine wouldn’t know what to
do with me
All I’m fit for is burial in some remote spot
Where I’ll be forgotten far from any organized society
I only knew how to lose myself every which way in its
dregs
I thought I could reach the heights by going in by the
back door
But I despised those heights too much
I’m worthless, I’m nothing
I reject as a matter of course whatever could make me
valuable
Whatever could make something of me
My mind can’t accept any sort of label
I do talk, but no one ever listens to me
No one has ever listened to me
Because no one ever listens to anyone
All they’ve done is to watch me, interpret me from
afar
My life is only just beginning but already I’ve drawn
up a balance sheet
Have I lived too much in so short a time?
And what use is living too much, I’ve had nothing out
of it
Sometimes someone takes me, swallows me, appreciates
me for a fraction of a second
Then they’ve had enough, spit me out again
I’m worthless, I’m nothing
Life isn’t worth the effort of living
Come on, come in and share my hell
I’m at home here in the warm
It’s comforting when it’s cold outside and in
Sorry there’s nothing left to eat, that’s one of the
joys of my hell
It keeps me alert, seeing human misery quite clearly
There’s plenty to drink, though, a bottle of French
wine tonight:
La Vieille Ferme, Côtes du Ventoux
My survival depends on drink more than on food
I’m going out tonight, come with me
We’ll listen to a rhythm wild enough to wake up your
heart
Make it beat at the right speed to lift you outside
the walls of your life
I’m going to meet someone who’ll show me a new
universe
You too can share it
Hear life being discussed, people existing
Revealing all their secrets to complete strangers
Because I’m a complete stranger, more to my family
than to all those unknowns that I meet
Step into my hell
Once you come to understand it, perhaps it won’t be
hell any more
But you won’t come to understand it
Just as I won’t come to understand you
Must we for that reason try to wipe out one another?
There never was a war without loss of life
I’ve got nothing to lose, you’ve got nothing to gain
If there must be a fight, I’ll fight
If you want war, I’ll wage it
If I have to kill you, I’ll kill you
I’ve got nothing to lose, you’ve got nothing to gain
Step into my hell…
Come With Me
and I’ll Show You the World
You’re so handsome, so young and not yet disillusioned
with life
You admire me, think I’ve done everything you’ll never
dare to do
Here’s Church Street, Woody’s, Boot’s, John, George
and Henry
It’s not a bad beginning but let’s go further south
Here’s Greenwich Village, the Crow Bar, Splash, John,
George and Henry
Have a cigarette, have a beer, we’ll go back in a taxi
Here’s Old Compton Street, Soho village, Popstarz,
John, George and Henry
Smoke this joint, let that melt in your mouth, sniff
this, undress
Here’s the Marais, the subway, the Queen, Jeannette,
Georgette and Henrietta
There you are, now you know about the world
Don’t expect to find anyone better than me
Because you’ll only find everywhere John, George and
Henry or various versions of them
Is it My Fault if I Don’t Get
a Hard On?
How
did you get to be so cold?
Slow
and uninterested at first, then suddenly passionate
No
communication, meetings arranged through a go-between
Me
torturing myself all day because we’d said nothing about the night
Forget
the candlelit dinner, romance and flowers
Was
there any desire? What did you do to fan the flame?
We
screwed each other without human warmth
Then
we had to get drunk to do it
I
did my best in the circumstances, three joints before bed, but to no effect
Two
people in my bed at the same time, I don’t even recognise myself
But
if the person I fancy decides to leave us together...
Then
all I see in you is that first impression you gave me,
how
can you expect me to get a hard on?
Bring
back the third person and maybe we’ll make it
You
brought him back, we made it, but at what price?
You
think you don’t excite me
You
think only the love of your life excites me
I’ve
introduced jealousy into your relationship
Destruction,
that’s my passion
But
it’s only with you that I don’t get a hard on
It’s
not my fault and it’s not down to drugs!
Leave
and go anywhere else
London,
Paris, New York, Toronto
When
everything’s going wrong
When
people don’t understand each other
When
you don’t look straight at me but glance to right or left
When
your parents try to convince me I’ve got the wrong number so that I can’t reach
you
When
my social life is truly bankrupt because my studies take precedence
When
shame, guilt and even nostalgia are killing me
Let’s
sprinkle it all with whisky, Canadian Club, and make our sign of the cross
Flee,
flee, flee!
As
soon as anyone criticises me, no matter what for
Looking
on me as less than nothing (which is entirely true)
Taking
me for an idiot to be exploited all the way and back
Abusing
me as much as they can and may, even within the law
You
can trample all over me, spit in my face and finish me off altogether
I’ve
still got the option of flight
Flee,
flee, flee!
When
the brain stops responding to the body
When
my IQ goes up (against nature) by a notch
When
I start to act like an idiot, talking to myself or crying in the dark
My
only solution, utter forgetfulness, complete renewal, rebirth
Flee,
flee, flee!
I
want to do it without causing trouble or sorrow
My
family have long since forgotten me, how could they feel the impact of the
shot?
I
want to make sure that no one ever finds me
Spare
myself a funeral, the fire and the urn
Leap
into the ether and never come down again
Bury
myself in the earth and never come up for air
Sink
to the bottom of the sea and never resurface
Travel
through infinite space without arriving anywhere
Become
utter nothingness, with no remains in refrigerators or elsewhere
Burn
up everything I’ve touched, even my own ashes
Be
sublimated into energy which will lose itself among the stars
I’ve
got to stop myself from thinking, finish myself off for good, not
half-heartedly
Stop
all the torment and wild fantasies
Blow
all the circuits of memory capable of retaining any token of my presence on
earth
I
have no pity for anyone, least of all for myself
Forgive
me! I wanted nothing more than to live!
But
living is impossible...
Your Flowers Smell Like
Christ Decomposing!
You
waited patiently for the deadly boring workday to come to an end
You
walked quickly, at random, to wherever I might be
I
was with someone else but willing to free myself for you
Doubtlessly
thinking I was French
You’d
bought red wine, baguettes and some weird, smelly blue cheese
Miserable
cow, I’ve got nothing to do with France
France
threw me out, I can’t legally live there
You
see? I speak English now and I’m proud of it!
Where
do I come from? Nowhere
You
persisted, airing all the romantic ideas you’d amassed
You
were wondering how to improve your behaviour, temperament, manners
Talk
about love, complicated friendship, perhaps the start of a love affair,
fidelity
You
know very well I was stuck where I was
You
didn’t even mention the marriage or the arrangements for divorce
Then,
when you produced your flowers smelling like Christ decomposing, it was too
much
Go
on, pack up your goods and get out of my life
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
That’s
what you said to me the first time I kissed your neck
I
took you in my arms and you told me I was nice and sweet and all
Then
you rejected me: You’re so sweet, but . . .
All
the same, next day you learned more about me and we talked about your hometown,
Seattle
You
saw a sensitive soul, wearing his heart on his sleeve (old, outmoded English
phrase)
A
soul so pure and sweet that no one reading these lines could understand the
paradox
That
night you lit candles, put on some hackneyed classical music which everybody
knows
I
was hardly dressed but played the innocent who doesn’t know what effect he’s
having
I
went out for a moment but came back for a cigarette
You
were dressed strangely for the night, very exciting
I
came close to pouncing on you and raping you there and then
But
I stopped myself, to be sure of being able to see you one more time
Then,
when you threw me out, you made the mistake of giving me one last kiss for the
night
At
once I got a hard-on and we both got carried away
You
asked me to put out the candles so as to hide your old body
You
made love like someone rediscovering his joie de vivre, the happiness of
existence
You
gave me more warmth and energy than I would ever have thought possible
You
confessed that the age difference between us had caused a psychological block
(But
no, I’m of age, you won’t go to prison, don’t worry)
Thirty-one
isn’t old, you know
You’re
capable of such tenderness, such wonders
In
fact you’re the one who’s so sweet and that’s unforgettable
I Go from One Extreme to the
Other
As
with everything in this world, there’s no happy medium
Everything
goes right or everything goes wrong
And
my reactions are extreme
Either
I’m having such a good time that I could die of happiness
(Sometimes
just watching the movement of a snail)
Or
I want to die drowned in drink
(sometimes
just seeing a snail crushed at the side of the road)
I’ll
draw down the moon for you or I’ll cut off your head and bury you
I’m
on a strict diet or eating to bursting point like a pig
I’ll
dance at the edge of the cliff but sometimes I need a darkened room,
hermetically sealed
I
insult people and lose all my friends or I shower them with more flowers than
they can bear
I
get through a task by working on it twenty-four hours a day or I do nothing at
all
I’m
an extremist
As
with everything in this world, there’s no happy medium
Everything
goes right or everything goes wrong
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
The Meat Between a Woman’s Legs
Yes, someone told me about it, I know it exists
It seems it has a strange colour and texture, an
aphrodisiac scent
I’ve discussed it at length with priests
Advertising agencies and business men
In high-minded purely intellectual conversations
It’s an interesting concept, a marketable product
We should draw up a strategy, avoid all pitfalls
Sell it fairly expensively but target the right
consumers
It’s a good marketing ploy, a gilt-edged industry
Yes, I have to admit it has certain undeniable
qualities
From the moment when . . .
You’re worth nothing any more and it’s written in the
stars
That you’ve failed at everything and have no future
That everyone’s rejected you, parents and the love of
your life
That you’ve got no more food and it’s only by a
miracle that you’ve survived this long
That you’re lost at five o’clock in the morning in the
middle of some strange town with nowhere to sleep
Then real life begins
The life where you have no more hang-ups, no more
shame
No morality, no outmoded values
Not answerable to anyone
Then I indulge myself to death
I make my base in London
I go out, drink, smoke, take drugs, and rave the night
away
And when I’m lost in the Underground on my way to the
centre of town, I’m ecstatic!
I revel in my total freedom
I’m so far away from all those people who say things
should be this way and not that
I’m far away from the ones who live in the past and
have no hope in the future, without even taking a look at the present
Ah well, as for me, I’ve never lived as much as I do
in the present
From the moment when everything you’ve ever known no
longer exists, life begins
We’ve been head over heels in love for four years
We don’t understand each other any more but try to be
faithful
We cook ourselves nice little dinners
Broccoli soup with cream, charlottes with maple syrup
We sleep together in a queen-size bed, hardly ever
snore
We go together to the cinema, go shopping together
Everyone knows about our relationship and accepts it
gladly
Life couldn’t be sweeter
But . . . where did we meet?
What no one knows is that we met in the bog at a bar
in town
There’s nothing more romantic
A dark room filled with smoke at about two o’clock in
the morning
I’d just arrived, was already drunk
I’d been smoking something dodgy, couldn’t see very
well
You gave me a lift home saying perhaps we’d see each
other again at the end of term
I gave you the wrong phone number
You gave me crabs in the first month of our
relationship
And now today that love is dead
All that’s left in my head are the worst moments
For a long time I wished you dead
Every year you left me in the lurch to look around
elsewhere
The little friends you slept with would come and ring
our doorbell
You’re a complete slut
Today I feel free beyond description
Love is sweet . . .
I lay there in silence
Blood dripping on the ground
I didn’t see your gun
I’m dying for you
You’ve never understood anything
Unknown in the big city
Lost for days on end without seeing you
Waiting for you in Ottawa or in Paris
Where were you then when I was still alive?
I’m lying here in silence
Listening to myself die
My gun in the bracken
I’m dying for you
I’ve never understood anything
Unknown in the big city
Lost for days on end seeing you in my dreams
Waiting for you in Prague or in Texas
So where are you now that I’m dead?
I’m lying here in silence
Listening to you die
Whose gun was it?
You’re dying for me
We’ve never understood anything
Unknown in big cities
Lost for days on end without seeing each other
Waiting for each other in Toronto or in London
Where are we now that we’re dead?
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
Oh God!
They were all born in their own little world
They all interpreted your existence according to their
own ideas
They all wrote their own bible and believed in it
They all thought they knew everything
They all thought they were right
They all waged war to impose their own ideas
They all killed in your name
Oh God!
Did you want so many nations and such wretchedness?
So many births and deaths?
Can pardon, absolution, ever come from all this hell?
We’re born, we die, just where we are
Freedom of thought has never motivated us
We all have our own laws, our own ways of doing things
They all waged war for their own ends
They all killed in your name
Oh God!
Didn’t you want us to convert our enemy?
Didn’t you want us to understand our enemy?
Didn’t you want us to help our enemy?
Didn’t you want us to love our enemy even if he kills
us?
They all waged war
They all killed in your name
They’re all guilty
You probably wanted anarchy on earth?
Anarchy is being aware in ourselves that something
else exists
Anarchy is thinking differently from the rest of the
world
Anarchy is ridding ourselves of everything foreign to
our desires
Anarchy is doing what we’ve always wanted to do
Anarchy is something within ourselves
Anarchy has nothing to do with anyone else
Anarchy isn’t fighting or destroying our own kind
Anarchy isn’t demonstrating in the street to denounce
this or that
Anarchy is a revolution within
It’s the awareness that something else exists
It’s an existence that depends on no one else
It’s an intrinsic freedom guiding us towards happiness
and joy
Anarchy isn’t political
Anarchy isn’t racist or discriminatory
Anarchy bears no ill will to anyone
Anarchy is questioning everything again and again
It’s being above the things of this world
It’s the quest for a reason for living
It’s doing whatever makes us happy
In a world where it’s impossible to be happy
Anarchy is a revolution of the mind
Anarchy is a feeling of freedom
In a world where there is no freedom
And that’s very powerful!
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
You think you know everything
You analyse my every move
You give me marks out of ten
I don’t give a toss
I’m above all that because I haven’t yet achieved
great things
I live purely by necessity
Survive purely by instinct
If you’re not happy, go fuck yourself
You’ve learned everything, know everything
You know what’s good and what’s bad
You have preconceived ideas as to what I should or
shouldn’t do
You think you could do better
Come on, then, let’s have a laugh at your shortcomings
You’re still something better than I am?
All the more reason to challenge and contradict you
I don’t give a fuck about you!
You’re looking at me
I’m not listening
You attract my attention
Your head’s in the clouds!
I reply
No, no, my head’s not in the clouds
You watch me
I’m somewhere else
You panic
You’re head’s in the clouds!
I reply
No, no, my head’s not in the clouds
You spy on me
You’re infuriated
You yell
You’re head’s in the clouds!
I reply
No, no, my head’s not in the clouds
I’m much further away than the clouds
I saw light on the horizon
Got out of my boat to hear more clearly
Flew as far as the mountain
A wave filled the sky
Seductive music charmed me
In that light I saw
Sound travel over the fields
Flying with bats over the canal
Waves filled the sky
And I understood
All the answers were there on the horizon
In the smallest details in front of my eyes
Light, sound, waves
I flew all over the sky
With the eagle eyes of the illuminated
If I were a woman, I’d be beautiful
If I were a woman, I’d be slim
If I were a woman, I’d be clever
If I were a woman, I’d be an engineer
If I were a woman, I’d build a tower reaching up into
space
If I were a woman, I’d have 16 children who’d all be
engineers
If I were a woman, I’d understand everything happening
around me
If I were woman, I’d embrace human rights, the poor,
the orphaned
If I were a woman, I’d be president of the company
If I were a woman, I’d be Joan of Arc
If I were a woman, I’d be secretary-general of the
United Nations
But since I’m not a woman
I’m going to fall asleep in front of the telly with my
beer
If I Were President of the United States
If I were President of the United States, I’d speak in
the name of God
If I were President of the United States, I’d be a
diehard Christian
If I were President of the United States, I’d speak in
the name of family values
If I were President of the United States, I’d be
heedful of my duty and good
If I were President of the United States, I’d be firm
and ruthless
If I were President of the United States, I’d joyfully
love everyone
If I were President of the United States, I’d kill the
terrorist enemy
If I were President of the United States, I’d be old
and wise
If I were President of the United States, I’d be rich
as Croesus
If I were President of the United States, I’d build up
a strong army
If I were President of the United States, I’d develop
an infallible defence system
If I were President of the United States, I’d rule the
world
If I were President of the United States, I’d be pure
If I were President of the United States, I’d be
perfect
If I were President of the United States, I’d be the
most powerful man ever
But since I’m not President of the United States,
I’m going to the bog to wipe my bum
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
If I were God, I’d have created you, you miserable
animal
If I were God, I’d know what was going on in your
underdeveloped brain
If I were God, I’d laugh at your petty power of
authority
If I were God, your shortcomings would make me laugh
If I were God, it wouldn’t interest me how pure you
were
If I were God and you a delinquent in the making, I’d
take an interest in you
If I were God, all your laws and social niceties would
be meaningless to me
If I were God, I’d delight in watching you destroy
yourself
If I were God, I wouldn’t listen to your self-serving
prayers
If I were God, one genocidal act more or less wouldn’t
mean the end of the world
If I were God, I’d know just how wretched you were in
all your apparent greatness
If I were God, your life would be futile
If I were God, your death would be futile
If I were God, only my overall plan would count for
anything
If I were God, only what I’d foreseen for humanity
would count
If I were God, only the final reckoning after the
death of humanity would count
And since I am God
I’m going to write your story
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
Forgive me God for I have sinned
I thought in my madness that I could save the world
I thought I could make a difference
I thought I had the power to change things
They deported me
They put me in prison
They stripped me of all the rights I’d been granted
They stripped me of all the hope I’d built up for
myself
I deserve it
I was deaf
I was blind
I wasn’t up to it
Now I’m silent
Now I’m invisible
Now I’m dead
Is that what you want?
Now there can be no pardon
No possible understanding
No magic vision
In my mind you’re dead
Oh God, how your logic put us in the wrong
How your will fails to move us
How your wisdom is unknown to us
My sentence is that of humanity
We’ve all sinned
We’ve all thought we could save the world
We’ve all thought we could make a difference
We’ve all thought we had the power to change things
We all deserve death
A tortured soul like mine
That has lost its direction
On the right road to happiness
That’s complete madness
I take all souls with me in my torment
In an endless madness at the brink of day
All the outmoded constructions
Which existed only in my imagination
Oh God . . .
I see things
I hear things
Beyond my understanding
Save me!
I’m at the beginning of time
I’m at the end of time
I’m infinite
Madness has got hold of my poor soul
I’ve gone crazy
Hear my prayer!
It’s as infinite as space
But in this universe I’m all-powerful
I control the capabilities of everything
I see beyond the horizon
The nightmare of my existence
I’m no longer myself
I never was myself
I’ll never be myself
Complete madness
Oh yes, some nights I turn around
And realise I’m alone in this space
That there’s no way in or out that can lead me to
anyone else
I’m alone in the world
I think about what’s going on in the starry sky
I’m trying to understand the reality around me
I work on my own ideas, my own ideals
I know that the rest of the world exists only in my
imagination
This is my life, what’s in my mind
With trees and the camp fire
Nothing else exists
Nothing to poison my existence
I manage to forget you
I manage to forget that somewhere office blocks exist
Towns and their inhabitants
Duties and responsibilities
I find myself alone with my ideas
My theory of the universe
My home-made philosophy
My fate and my happiness
I’m leaving alone for space on my asteroid
I’m going out of the solar system
I’m exploring other galaxies
I’m alone in the world
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
I’m Going to Find Myself a Whore
Beautiful slave of this world
Preferably blonde
Not too old
Between twelve and fifteen
A virgin if possible
Wearing high heels
Already in a mess
And dependent on hard drugs
Don’t you dream too?
Have an extraordinary longing to get out of your rut?
A destiny to fulfil?
A desire to change the world?
Well then you’ve found me
I’m your whore
Beautiful slave of this world
Still a virgin
I’m a surprise
A romantic dinner before screwing
Candles burning all night long
Fireworks blowing up in your face
I’m going to find myself a whore
She’ll be dark
She’ll be old
She’ll be dirty
You’ve found me
I’m your whore
Beautiful slave of this world
In a firework display blowing up in your face
One day I woke up crazy
The way you are now
My only solution is this anarchy
They tried to lock me up for some time
Time for me to recover my spirits
Time for me to understand that life is a game
Time to understand we must always throw the dice
Time to understand we must accept hell
Pretend to enjoy it and smile at life
One day you’ll all be crazy
The way I am now
Your only solution will be medical help
They’ll lock you up for some time
Time for you to recover your spirits
Time for you to understand that life is a game
Time to understand we must always throw the dice
Time to understand we must accept hell
Pretend to enjoy it and smile at life.
Something Tells Me That This Time . . .
This time when they ask you to come to the centre of
London
You won’t go looking shy and submissive
This time when they ask you into the office
You won’t be feeling afraid and anxious
This time when they tell you you’re incompetent
You won’t come up with some silly excuse
This time when they show you their fabricated evidence
You won’t be sick and discouraged
This time when they lie to you through their teeth
You won’t play their game and start lying yourself
This time when they let you know their unjust decision
You’ll take charge at last and tell them to go to hell
Something tells me that this time . . .
You won’t be manipulated by them
You won’t let them walk all over you
Their lies will have no effect on you
You won’t go home defeated
You won’t spend three days bewailing your lot
You won’t sink into permanent depression
You won’t start taking drugs to forget your problems
Something tells me that this time . . .
You’ll be a different man
You’ll be strong
You’ll stop wanting to forget your problems
You’ll take yourself in hand and stop the useless
struggle
You’ll face up to your existence
You’ll move on to other things
And then you’ll be born again
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
The phone rings, it’s my drinking buddy from
Manchester
He asks me to go with him again to Camden Palace and
get rat-arsed
One pint, two pints
New Order are playing
And suddenly the world belongs to us
We dream about being rich, leaving for Los Angeles
To forget that we’re poor and looking for work
Again we talk about starting our own business
It’ll be called The Marginal plc, a nicely
provocative name
It’ll make millions and be quoted on the stock
exchange
Three pints, four pints
We’re doing justice to English pubs
Our capitalist side never really disappears
What we’re looking for above all is our independence
We’ll succeed at something, though we don’t know what
And at once we’re the brightest and most brilliant
people of our generation
Five pints, six pints
Reality suddenly hits us
We’re nothing and we’ll never be anything
We can’t take risks and throw ourselves into crazy
enterprises
You have to be mad to set up a business, only lunatics
succeed
Seven pints, eight pints
We’re well into a coma
The whole world is mad, lunatics all of them!
What are we doing in this world?
Nine pints, ten pints
We vomit all over the toilets of Camden Palace
The two of us fall asleep at the bar
All our dreams wiped out by our natural functions
Compared to the American Dream, the British Dream is
lovely!
One glass of wine too many
That’s why I’ve just been sick on the carpet
But before . . .
I ‘m nineteen
Just arrived in Los Angeles
Ready for anything
Queuing up at the Zombi Bar
To meet anyone there worth meeting
I’m not fussy, sleep with influential men and women
In a world of poverty you take advantage of what’s on
offer
Me, me, me!
Now you’ll see I’m someone of little brain, great
With a good body, great
And an endless will to get all your plans going, great
We’re not in Paris, here you make millions, millions,
millions
And spend it all in as long is it takes to say so
We’re not here for the millions
We’re here to meet the right person
I won’t wipe tables any more
I’ve done too much of that in all the capital cities
of the world
Me, I’m going to be part of the world of the rich and
famous
The fearsome world of Hollywood
I’ll have one hit, two hits, three hits, a flop
Drown my sorrows in alcohol, then drugs
I’ll be forgotten for years
Then resurface one day when someone gives me a break
But I’ll screw up again
Later go into detox
I’ll babble about the Teletubbies
Time for me to hold a gun to my head
But I’ll have succeeded, for just one moment,
To live on another planet
The Following Poem Was Banned in 53 Countries
I woke up one morning needing a fuck
So I decided to take a walk round my grandfather’s
farm
There was a magnificent mare in the stable
A ripe juicy mare
A nice rounded mare like you see in all the best
illegal porn films
I mounted her
Let’s do it!
Ah, aah, aaaaaahhhh!
Satisfied at last I went into the henhouse
A nice fat hen full of lard!
Let’s do it, hen!
Yes, yes! Ah, aah, aaaaaahhhh
And even then I couldn’t leave my grandfather’s farm
Without taking a peek at the pigsty
Ah my friends!
Two huge nursing sows, you want them? There they are!
Let’s do it, fat sows!
Heigh ho! Ah, aah, aaaaaahhhh
Then at the side of the shed
A nice fat cat on heat
Have I still got the energy?
Wah, wah! Wah, hey!
Ah, aah, aaaaaahhhh
And just before I left, a little white mouse
Oh no, I told myself, it’s time to go
And This One Was Banned All Over the World
One day I woke up needing a fuck
So I decided to go to a shelter for battered women
[The rest is censored but you can imagine what
happened . . . ]
The army, my girl, is for strong men
Macho men
Well-endowed men
It’s a place where you’d be among men playing at
soldiers
It’s not for you
The army, my girl, is a place for men with muscles
All naked together in the shower
With big, well-hung willies
It’s a place where you’d be among men playing at being
among men
It’s not for you
The army, my girl, is for the stronger sex
Men bursting with spermatozoa
Full of testosterone
It’s a place for playing together even at night
It’s not for you
At night I look through the bars
I see the full moon
My gaze then falls on the cement floor
You’d believe I was thinking about remorse
Or about vengeance
But I’m not thinking about anything
My heart is empty
My gaze absent
I’ve stopped living
I’ve always held my breath
I look at the moon in the sky
I’m far away, far, far away in space
I can’t remember being born
I can’t remember having lived
A vague memory comes back to me
Only to be forgotten between the toilet and the stool
Human suffering
I despair of ever seeing a better day
When life becomes bearable
I hear stories through the bars
You’d believe they’d make me think
Or make my condition worse
But I don’t hear anything
My soul is deaf
My life is total silence
I’ve stopped living
I’ve always turned a deaf ear
I hear the stars in the sky
I’m far away, far, far away in space
I don’t remember hearing tears at my birth
I don’t remember hearing anything at all
A vague snatch of speech comes back to me
Only to be forgotten between the candle and my bed
Human wretchedness
I despair of ever hearing a better day
When the cacophony of civilisation becomes bearable
A gun at your head
To make you understand
The eternal void
The insignificance of our destiny
Now I see there’s nothing beyond the horizon
Nothing to expect from nothing
The irony of our existence
I’ll throw
A bomb under your seat
To make you understand
The darkness of our logic
The violence in everything
Now I see there’s no hope beyond the horizon
Nothing to hope for from anyone
The hell of our consciousness
I’ll start
A world war on your head
To make you understand
The evil in this world
The uselessness of the planet
I see now that there’s nothing to see beyond the
horizon
Nothing to expect from space
The illusion of science
I’ll explode
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
Have they even got any hope in life?
Any joy in seeing daylight fill space?
Are they still thinking about science, philosophy and
politics?
Do they think they’ll discover psychology one day,
late in the evening?
And has the wonderful world of money yet been born?
It’s called the world of marketing and sales
With project managers and managing directors
God must have created these things as irony or as
vengeance
Once I saw a garden
Radishes, carrots, tomatoes
Earth and flowers
I didn’t see the advent of the business world written
in the stars
Nor that of political wretchedness
I see the joy of someone who knows and can do nothing
Who walks free from every plague, every thought
Going out with no pressure, no qualifications
And walking all day without thinking about anything at
all
A world that’s forgotten his existence
A world that doesn’t think any more
But lives and breathes
I walk in the wind
Learn to unlearn
To forget whatever we’ve tried to understand
Free myself from these machines and this noise
Flee from people running in all directions
I’m in quest of inaction
I want total emptiness
I want to live
I thought I understood the idea of the infinite
Seeing my body stretched out relatively in all
directions
Seeing time at once stopped and multiplied by itself
I saw the beauty of a world impossible to fashion
Energy fields with no beginning and no end
Heavenly electric storms over the whole universe
Seeing across time what happened before and what will
happen after
The power to see reality as infinity where the present
has never existed
To understand and interpret infinities of reality
It’s even better to see, understand and live in this
world
A multitude of events all invisible at once
And the ability to deal with different strands of
experience
I see, try, know everything
I live at infinity
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
I live in the most beautiful country in the world
The Prime Minister is the most intelligent being on
the planet
He’s challenged everything
I now have enough to eat
The economy’s rolling in money
My job pays a fortune compared to what I’d earn
elsewhere
It’s elsewhere that people are dying of hunger
While I live in the richest country of all
It’s crazy, money falls from the sky
But the district I work in is dedicated to finance
What does this mean?
It means everything because I have enough to eat
Life is wonderful!
I weep with joy!
Look at me, happiness is written on my face
We live on the most beautiful planet in the universe!
Tie me up, I can’t carry on any more
Joy and happiness are choking me
Everything’s so perfect that it screeches like the
tyres of my new car
Aaaaahh! At
last God has heard our prayers
Such a beautiful country!
Such a rich culture!
Such a wonderful system!
It’s too much.
Kill me, someone
I want to let everything go
I want someone to launch me into space
I want to escape way beyond our solar system
With a gun in my hand tonight and tomorrow be no more
I’ve got no pity at all for the old granny believing
in her God
No pity at all for the bloke in his suit and tie dying
in conformity
No pity at all for that woman fighting for recognition
No pity at all for that child who’ll become a monster
in our image
I’ve got no pity at all for anyone
Why should I take pity on you?
Why do you deserve to live?
Why is your daughter’s life worth more than the lives
of 7 billion other parasites on this planet?
Do you think I give a toss about your dog, your cat or
your goldfish?
All you’ve ever done all my life is to make me sick
Oh, you were capable of finer feelings
Of loving your neighbour
But it’s a bit late to prove it
If you haven’t already done it, you never will
You’re incapable of understanding, of good deeds or of
love
I won’t be a hypocrite, won’t hide away to say what I
think
When the bomb went off, I was on the front line
When the time came, I was the one who lit the fuse
You never wept for my dead, I won’t weep for yours
You are the catalyst of this terrorism
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
The world is dying
And I don’t give a toss
I’d like to speed up the process
Steer it to a quicker death
But what power do I have on this planet?
They’ll analyse my neurosis
This desire to see the world explode
Eliminate all trace of human existence from the earth
And take the last laugh with me to my grave
Because you’ll never understand me
I’m playing with you
I’m playing with the analyst
Lying to him all the way and back again
Don’t forget it: Je
est un autre
I’m a sheep
White like all the other sheep
I’m law-abiding
I’ve been to university
Been a managing director
What a creep I am
Socialist and capitalist at the same time
I’ve read Marx, Nietzsche, Machiavelli and Stalin
And now I’m a volatile mixture
Boom! The world’s just blown its fuse
Grace – is that too much to ask?
I’m the worst of anarchists
I don’t listen to reason
Anything can justify my death
Anything can justify your death
Can you prove to me that you deserve to exist?
I offer all my worldly goods to anyone who’ll kill me
I’ve had enough of this wretched existence
And like any good anarchist
I’d like to take the rest of the planet with me when I
die
A Serious Problem with Authority
Ever since I was born you’ve told me what I should do
with myself
I’ve never been free to take the slightest little
decision
And if I once stood up to tell you I wouldn’t do
something
Once just walked away to do something else
That something else soon became your Plan B
I went on doing whatever you wanted me to do
And you wonder why I hate authority
Why I don’t take kindly to criticism
Why I can’t stand people telling me what to do
It’s because you’ve planted these powerful authority
figures everywhere
At every level of my existence
Some sort of authority is fencing me in
Checking up on me, spying on what I do
And if I object, however feebly, an army descends on
me
An army of parents, teachers, supervisors, directors,
priests
Psychologists, policemen, soldiers, agents of all
sorts of outfits
What counts is order, conformity’s the thing, total
peace without compromise
Well, I’m telling you I’m not the one who has a
problem with authority
Too many people have too much authority over everyone
else in the world
Don’t be surprised when everything blows up in your
face
When someone suddenly pulls a gun and fires it among
you at random
You were asking for it and you’ll find it yet
How could you?
How could you lie to us all these years?
How could you manipulate events like that?
Why have so little faith in your children?
Did you think we couldn’t take things as they were?
Couldn’t adapt ourselves to new realities?
That we’d give one last cry and die?
No
We’re not fools
We’re not crazy
We’re capable of seeing, hearing, acting for ourselves
Taking control of our lives and being aware of what’s
going on
Challenging everything from morning to night
And living in this new age of which we’ve been robbed
How could you?
How could you carry on like that?
How did you manage to hide so many things from us?
Everyone knew
Everyone understood
Everyone kept quiet
Everyone thought you were right
That these things must be hidden
Fear
Fear of talking
Fear of looking ridiculous
Of being destroyed
Of dying
How could you?
How could you lie to us all these years?
How could you manipulate events like that?
Some opinion you must have of your children
When you think it important they must live in
ignorance!
And what would that change anyway?
Nothing
You’ll pay the price
You’ll vanish
And we’ll take over
And you’ll see that we’ll build better things than you
do with your petty constructions
We’ll rebuild a truly happy world
We’ll be born again
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
There’s something hanging from your crotch
Let’s see, old sow, it’s getting bigger
Don’t you ever wash, you old bag?
It’s really disgusting, puts me off
To think that you’re an expert in your field
A field that you’re the only one to understand
Don’t you know that the world has moved on?
You tell me you’ve been ill
I can well believe it, with those boils on your cunt
And how’s the womb?
Generalised cancer?
I’ve been telling myself too that it took something
like this to understand
Understand that another life exists outside of your
contempt
I’m not going to wear myself out slagging you off
Because you’ve always opened doors for me
And then you’ve shut them all
If you hadn’t been so worried abut your cunt
You’d have seen that I didn’t give a shit about your
insides
Your ailments
Your cancer
Your hair falling into the drains of Paris
Bitch, fucking bitch!!!
That’s all you are
I’ll open those doors for myself
Go back to your cancers and ailments
I kiss your crotch
And what’s hanging from it
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
They’re talking about me, darling
On five continents, darling
I am beautiful
I am everything
I am the talk of the town
Darling
I’m a sex-machine
I’m an orgasmic doll
I cry out
I bugger you
It hurts, darling
I’m happy
You’re in pain
Hurrah!
But I’m dying
Of lack of interest
Lack of motivation
Complete lack of seriousness
Baaah, baaaaaaah, baaaaaaaaaaah!
I don’t give a shit, darling!
I’m the talk of the town
And I don’t give a fucking fuck
Darling
I can’t begin to understand
Why I’m still alive
When I’ve tried so hard
To leave this world
To rid myself of you
In ridding myself of myself
Flee from this old country
Go to new places to escape from other people in old
countries
And isolate myself on a desert island to be sure of
finding the inner peace I deserve
I swallowed pills, hundreds of pills
Drank 13 bottles of whisky one after another
Threw up 13 bottles of whisky probably because I was
full of pills
I bought myself all The Smiths’ records
Fired a bullet into my head but it went straight through
my brain and I’m still alive
Good Lord, what’s a man got to do to die in this
world?
Take down his trousers, show you his dick and jump off
a bridge
Blah blah blah blah, hic!
So go to hell
I don’t give a toss about you
What I’d like is to get rid of you forever
But that doesn’t work
That’s why I threw myself on to those electric cables
50,000 volts and I’m still alive
The only explanation
Is God, he’s the one who’s stopping me from dying
So He can screw himself!
I’ve stopped living
I’ve abandoned all my plans
I’ve thrown my promising future out of window
I can tell the whole world of my misery and suffering
The hell you’ve made for me
There’s no place for joy in your universe
Happiness was never part of the equation
I’ve stopped thinking for myself
I obey your commands
I break the law and work all the overtime I can
I work like a dog to forward your useless projects
I’m your slave
Forever, yours for eternity
I give you my life, my talents, my skills
All that for your personal advantage
I don’t say a word
I listen to your sermons on my faults
I ask pity for myself
I’ll get to heaven
The heaven of slaves
Amen
I’m Your Inflatable Virgin Mary
Blasphemy!
Screw me!
I give myself to you entirely
Isn’t that what you wanted?
Screw me!
Blasphemy!
I’ll give birth to Christ the all-powerful
That shit will emerge from my guts
To destroy everything it meets on its way
Cause wars in the world
Blasphemy!
That’ll be the fruit of this bottomless hole, endless
suffocation
Dead men on top of me, blood all over the universe
Screw me!
So that Christ in his turn can screw
The whole world
Bogged down in this muddy marsh
This thick fog
Blasphemy!
The ways of God are impenetrable
Screw me!
The new improved Virgin Mary
Who spawns hell on earth
For thousands of years
Until there’s a perfect being
Superman
Christ decomposed to humanity’s tune
We’ve achieved the new age
Of a frustrated virgin
Who gave birth to the end of the world
The ways of God are impenetrable
Blasphemy!
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
You walk past me, ignoring me completely
In your eyes I’m worth less than nothing
You think I’m sixteen, I think you’re a good fifteen
years older than you really are
You put me through the hardest graft for your own
satisfaction
You have such a good time it disgusts me, you laugh in
my face
You bad-mouth me to everyone all over the place
You seem to be having your period every day of the
year
Walking with clenched thighs as if afraid that your
bloodstained tampons would fall to the ground
Your face gives me a rash, I couldn’t imagine making
love to you
You don’t take care of your skin, put six layers of
makeup on your eyes
A real clown, a real whore
You’re so dried-up, anyone would swear you’re about to
break into bits
God how I loathe you, I’ll beat you till you’ve no teeth
left
The dinosaurs are still alive, spitting the same fire,
I’ve been burnt by it again and again
Bring me an axe to chop this plank of wood
You’re just a bitch-victim
I’m a contradiction of nature in every sense of the term
I think differently from the rest of the world from A
to Z
I’m totally sure there’s no justice in this world
And go further in believing that there’s nothing to
justify justice
I’m moved when I see how we let people die of hunger
Very surprised to find that the hungry don’t rise up
against those who have too much to eat
Order has been imposed on the world through fear
A social contract ignoring the fact that we’re in a
jungle
That, in the jungle, the law of the strongest prevails
and the rest must die
But the ruling principles of these societies flirt
with anarchy
There again the law of the strongest prevails but on a
different level
You have to fight against life, fight against death
Impose yourself, your ideas, desires, needs, laws and
rights
But everything in this world is only convention
There are no rights, no freedoms, no need of anyone
else we should gratify
Nothing is good, nothing is evil
It’s up to us to adapt ourselves to life
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
There are no noble feelings
There’s only hidden self-interest
Even in aiming for heaven and going to paradise
There’s Nothing Worse Than People With
Principles
There’s nothing worse than people with principles
Because their principles only ever apply to themselves
Because of course no one can live entirely according
to the best principles in the world
And so they don’t live up to their ideal life
And suffer enormously
Then they try to regulate our lives instead
According to principles they don’t respect themselves
And so my life is fettered by these principles
Principles which change from one person to another
And I ask to see how all this may be justified
Where is the source of what should and should not be
Life could be much simpler
Without all these futile principles
Should we hide the truth?
Should we tell the truth?
Should we demand truth from others?
Should we help others to hide the truth?
Should truth become an obsession, something beyond
price?
We could spend our whole lives looking for truth
We could destroy the whole world for the sake of the
search for truth
We could lose all our friends and family for the truth
We could make our lives wretched simply by needing to
know the truth
We could lie and feel horribly guilty about hiding the
truth
We could destroy our careers and our whole destiny in
letting others know the truth
We’re worth nothing any more when others know the
least of our truths
Other people’s truth is extremely dirty, best not to
know too much about it
Not every truth should be told
Not every truth should be known
Every quest for the truth will be in vain
Every attempt to hide the truth will be in vain
The policy of truth
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
You’re certainly the prettiest girl I’ve ever met
(Well, perhaps not, but almost)
You’re twenty-one and I thought you were twenty-six
(In your case, that’s a compliment)
If I wasn’t what I am, I’d probably ask you to marry
me
(And then I’d have a British passport)
You walk up and down the aisles pushing a trolley full
of books
(At sale price, everything must go)
You smile angelically at me
(The better to plant your claws later on)
You’re sweet and lively
(Like sows in pigstys)
I stroke your lovely blonde hair
(Because you never stop flirting, you cow)
But when I ask you how you spend your free time, it
doesn’t mean I’m asking you for a date
(Fuck off)
And then you tell me you’ve got a boyfriend
(To put and end to your flirting, it’s gone too far)
You absolutely have to go to your break
(What does your determined tone really mean?)
You practically accuse me of sexual harassment
(But where did you get that from?)
Perhaps it was when I got hold of your bum by mistake
(Believe me I’m not interest in pinching bottoms)
And perhaps I brushed up against one of your breasts
absent-mindedly
(That was an accident too or unconscious)
In short, you’re a real bitch to put me in my place
today
(Your problem is not knowing how to flirt and be nice
about it)
Implying that I want to sleep with you?
(You must be out of your mind)
Treating me like some kind of pest in front of everyone
(What do you take me for?)
Your poor boyfriend, no way would I want a woman as
frigid as you
(Amen)
Come on, get a life!
I strut about, looking good beside rich ugly people
I fill a void, enliven their conversations
I’m a good listener, a confidant who never contradicts
them
I’m no good, I was born that way
Wherever I go I’m told how good-looking I am and
people talk to me
I’ve got the knack of getting whatever I want, of
fitting in to any circle
I’m your dream domestic animal
People use me to feel better about themselves
But, watch it, my little brain is working all the same
I can see you coming
I judge and despise you
I listen to you but I hate you
If you abuse me, I’ll have my revenge
I don’t believe in wealth
I don’t believe in security and stability
For me there are no such things as the social scene or
famous people
No class of important or intelligent people
You’re all the same to me, if not worse than the
lowest of the low
Every attempt to buy me or impress me will be in vain
There are all sorts of eighteen-year-olds, with no
personality, ready for anything
And if they don’t sleep with you, you’ll soon get
tired of them
If they become demanding, you’ll have a hard time
I’m just a pretty face but, watch it, I bite
Only a minute after we were introduced you started
insulting me
Saying you felt sorry for me because I wasn’t born in
London
Then I took a good look at you
You’re old, my girl and you can’t hide the wrinkles on
your face
And your makeup only makes your ageing skin look worse
At your age you go out all the time, drink and take
drugs
But unfortunately all this shows in your body
You dress like a mad cow and think you’re a big wheel
on the London scene
You’re ridiculous to the core of your being
You poor fool, I’ve every reason to feel sorry for you
I who am still young and handsome and intelligent
So that people see me as a puppy they want to clasp to
their chests
They offer me the world on a plate so the world
belongs to me
Every day I turn down opportunities which could take
me a long way
People want to die in my arms, yes mine, madam
So who cares if I wasn’t born in the West End?
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
You were itching horribly and put it down to stress
Like everyone else, you’d masturbated and this had
affected your neurones
Your doctor didn’t find any little creatures, referred
you to a psychoanalyst
And now you do visualisation exercises to calm you
before you explode
You’ve never taken the time to sit still in silence
and think
I meet you coming out of bars at dawn, all in a sweat,
high as a kite and completely out of it
You look at me as if I was a vegetable, don’t even
recognise me
You remember vaguely that you went out four days ago
and now don’t know where you are
I give you my last pounds so that you can eat but you
spend all the money on some drugs or other
You accuse me of not calling you any more, but there’s
a limit to my resources
I can’t follow you any longer through the lower depths
of London, you’re too far gone
You’ll never surface again but I want to surface one
day (if possible)
Death is waiting for you round the next corner
Thank you so much for your farewell present
Crabs, crabs and crabs again!
I would so like to die in peace
Far from all thought-systems and any systems at all
Far away from everyone
Sufficient unto myself for my own survival
In conditions I know how to manage
There’s nothing more you can bring me, I’m full, look,
I’m throwing up in your face
There’s nothing I can bring you, I’ve seen nothing but
rejects everywhere
So, if I can’t expect anything from you and you can’t
expect anything from me, why force all these duties, responsibilities and
bureaucracy on me?
I’m not asking to drink the whole sea, I’m not asking
for all these rules and regulations
I’m not even asking for any sort of enjoyment
Even less that my needs are satisfied
I’m asking to be able to stay sitting here on the
ground until death catches up with me
But you never grant me this right
Sad world!
Oh dear, oh dear
I offended you
I stole everything from you
I understood the whole of your miserable life
I took pity on you
Oh dear, oh dear
You’re my best friend, my only friend
I love you more than you could imagine
I thought that you were mine and no one else’s
But you have a life I know nothing about
Oh dear, oh dear
What have I done?
I’ve destroyed everything
In less time than it took to establish this impossible
friendship
At least you know me, I was an anarchist from the
beginning
Oh dear, oh dear,
Could this be the end of that friendship?
Is it impossible to forgive whatever it was?
Are we going to be strangers even in the promised
land?
It depends entirely on you
Oh dear, oh dear
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
When my life makes no sense
When I’m a wretched as can be
And only want one thing – suicide
Quick, quick
Something philosophical . . .
The stars, the sky, the moon
The universe, the galaxies
The question of our existence
Quick, quick
Something philosophical . . . .
I’m dying
I weep
No reason to exist
Quick, quick
Something philosophical . . .
To bring me to something essential
Something not real
Something other than this reality
Quick, quick
Something philosophical . . .
Doesn’t matter what
Don’t know what
To make me forget
Quick, quick
Something philosophical . . .
Dear God, Let Me Be Done With It
I’ve looked at your planet
Your creatures
I can’t identify with them
They’ve rejected me
I’ve admired creation
In every place
I can’t identify with it
I want to stop existing
What a wonderful possibility!
Cancer, pneumonia, some incurable illness
Why haven’t you picked me?
But I was born dead
Oh why?
Why have you let me suffer so much?
Why force me to act?
Why force me to exist?
No goal to aim for
No social success to look for
No love which will make me happy
No personal satisfaction worth the effort
Permanent guilt
Guilt at the heart of me
Guilt I don’t understand
The desire to achieve great things without asking
anything in return
So let me die
I wanted to achieve great things
And I achieved them
I wanted to love the world
And I loved it
I wanted to travel over the oceans of the universe
And I travelled there
I wanted to understand the universe
And I understood it
I wanted to create wonderful things
And I created them
You don’t understand!
I’ve done everything
Loved everything
Understood everything
Created everything
But God’s work is never done
It’s always ongoing
And all the more majestic for that
It’s infinite
And I lack the energy
I lack the energy to achieve great things
To love infinitely
Understand infinitely
Create infinitely
I lack the energy to live in infinity
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
I’m beyond war
I’ve never understood genocide
A million deaths mean nothing to me
God is only another human invention
Human suffering
Famine
Holy Wars
Crusades
Never really assimilated
I’ve never taken anything in because I live in the
present
What is this present?
You don’t want to know
It’s too depressing
War fills my TV screen
Genocide is the news of the day
I have war and death for breakfast
But all the same I go about my daily boring business
I’m living beyond war and I don’t give a toss
I’ve got a headache
No problem
Just all my energy
Ready to explode
I’ve got this urge in me
To make another world from this world
Look, it’s there, it’s here . . .
A real world!
I’m not mad
I’m not dead
I’ve got all this for you
And it’s ready to explode
You won’t have time to see
Won’t have time to hear
Even though it’s all around you
I’m ready to explode
I’m going to inspire the masses
I’m inspiring the masses
With whispers
As powerful as guns
Come on, come on!
I’m alive!
I cry out to life!
We’re going to blow up this world!
We’re motivated enough to get somewhere
To build a new world
Recreate an earthly paradise
You’ve heard me!
Get going!
There are still things to inspire you in this world
Things to save lost souls
We can’t forget that hell is waiting to explode
Can’t forget who we are
Our humble origins can be become great
Be proud of what we represent
And fulfil a great destiny
Enough of self-absorption
Self-pity
We are as huge as the universe
We are the universe!
Ready to explode!
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
There’s a life after life
An existence after what they’ve made us see
It’s strong and powerful!
It’s all the energy necessary to be born
It’s the sum of all the good songs
Of all the anarchist personalities
It’s what inspires people to achieve the impossible
It’s what makes a people a great people
This infinite urge will be born in all nations of the
universe
An enormous structure free from the shackles of the
past
An extraordinary new inspiration
We’ll march all over the surface of the universe!
Understand the infinite capacity of everything
Understand the infinite definition of the world
Assimilating the whole world
Assimilating universal knowledge
Nothing will stop our progress through civilisations
No law, no ambitious wretch
No civil duty
We’ll live and live and live in total freedom!
The freedom to breathe
The freedom to act
The freedom to be
Freedom!
Poetry to Galvanise a Whole Generation
There was a time when poetry saved lives
A time when a young man would travel the roads of
France
To look for adventure on the open sea
Calling up a whole world of the imagination
And rejecting all convention
That was poetry to galvanise a whole generation
Now is the time when poetry saves lives
A time when the young travel the roads of the world
To look for adventure on the open sea
Calling up a whole world of the imagination
And rejecting all convention
That’s poetry to galvanise a whole generation
There will be a time when poetry saves lives
A time when the young will travel the roads of the
world
To look for adventure on the open sea
Calling up a whole other world
And rejecting all convention
That will be poetry to galvanise a whole generation
Ha, ha, ha!
Hey, hey, hey!
Hee, hee, hee!
Ho, ho, ho!
Huh, huh, huh!
Wah hoo!
You thought I was good-looking
That I was pure
That my standards were the same as yours
That I was a reflection of your true worth
A surprise and a lie
You’ve seen how ugly I am
What a tearaway I am
What an alcoholic
What a junkie
A surprise and a lie
Oh, I was a hypocrite
I lied
I let people believe I was something I wasn’t
I’m an actor
A surprise and a lie
I’m ugly
I’m a tearaway
I’m an alcoholic
I’m a junkie
Reality and truth
And who are you to ask me for a reckoning?
Who are you to accuse me?
Who are you to denounce me for fraud?
Who are you to wipe out my existence?
You’re as ugly as I am
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
I’ve Seen an Extra-Terrestrial
Oh wow!
It was green, it was blue, it was red
It spoke an incomprehensible language
I looked twice – and then three times
It hit me full in the face
I saw white, red and black
No time to fetch my camera
It whipped me
I enjoyed it so much I came and then asked for more
I saw the UFOs that the extra-terrestrial threw in my
direction
I saw pink, purple, a whole rainbow
It drilled a hole in my brain
Someone implanted something there
Black, grey, the colour of freshwater trout
Since then it controls me from a distance
Charging me up from afar to my very neurones
Now I work harder
I never even go home
Is my flat brown, beige and yellowish?
I told the police, the media and the local X-Files
Club about it
They found me next day at my desk, half-dead at my
computer
Someone prised open my eyes
They were green, orange and a muddy sort of colour
Someone asked me what had happened
I saw an extra-terrestrial! And UFOs!
But when I saw the film from the closed-circuit camera
I realised that the UFOs were folders
And the extra-terrestrial none other than my boss
Oops!
A woman wrinkled with age
When you look at her she shrinks
Away from the pain of this world
I bring her a rose
Sometimes you’re totally disillusioned with life
Sometimes nothing but dead flesh
Away from the pain of this world
I bring you roses
Sometimes it’s the rest of the world that seems
disillusioned
Wanting to remove life
Away from the pain of the world
I bring it roses
I’ve read about it, heard about it, seen it
A universe closed in on itself
Away from the pain of the world
There are no more roses
Oh Gloria, If You Hadn’t Loved Cider So Much . . .
Oh Gloria, you were beautiful with your blonde hair
Your passions, your desires and love of fantasy
Oh Gloria, if you hadn’t loved cider so much
You’d have seen your three children grow up
You’d still be driving through the streets of
Isleworth
You’d be cooking a turkey for Christmas Day
Oh Gloria, you were fascinating, a true libertine
You invented reasons for going back to your ex-husband
because you still loved him
You fought to save your children from poverty
You kept hens and ducks in your garden
You were typical of your generation
And had a huge impact on anyone who knew you
Oh Gloria, were you as beautiful as they say?
I’ve never seen you, even in a photograph
But everyone talks about you all the time
So who were you to have made such an impression on me?
I’ll never know
Oh Gloria, if you hadn’t loved cider so much . . .
Oh God, what sort of world am I living in?
Everyone without exception has gone mad
There are seven billion of them and they all piss me
off
When I envisage how they spend their time, it drives
me mad
Each of them trying to prove they’re worth more than
the next idiot
Their only aim to climb higher in the social scale
Have a little bit of power
Change some detail of their existence
A lot of them try to survive at the expense of others
Studying for thirty years, then taking a job that has
nothing to do with their studies
A job taken up with things that are no use at all to
society
Nothing there to help the species survive or relieve
human wretchedness
Even the poor blacks of Africa are exploited
To prop up the commercialism of capitalist charities,
who mainly need money to pay their employees for doing nothing
But all that’s not disheartening compared to the rest
I don’t believe we’ve arrived at a reason for our
existence
In fact I think we prove every day that we’re no
better than ants
Who build a nest which will be destroyed the next
morning by wind and storm
They seem to think their growth finished when they
were children and those children then studied for nothing for thirty years
Some believe in God to give meaning to their lives
But what difference does that make?
None, they’re each as hypocritical and self-serving as
the others
I’m still searching for a reason to live
I can’t find one and I’m in despair
Nothing motivates me
And what motivates the world is too depressing for
words
At least when I wanted to die because I hadn’t yet met
the love of my life
I was still hoping for a better world, a world where I
would meet the love of my life
Now that I’ve met the love of my life and gone through
the disappointments of love
I’ve nothing more to hope for
Social success?
I’ve climbed up, fallen down, climbed up again, fallen
down again
Did that interest me?
No way
I didn’t think I was anarchist
Then one night, after one beer too many
I saw that I was the worst anarchist of all
Better for you not to meet me, you run the strong risk
of being thrown out the window
Nothing makes any impression on me
Nothing inspires me
I’ve lost faith in the human race
It’ll never achieve anything worthwhile
And why should it?
Come On, Damn It, I’ve Got a Life to Live
I’m a blob, a big ball of flesh bursting its skin
Like the rest of the world, I’m slowing down
I take ages to finish the smallest task
I sleep more than I live
It takes all the motivation I can muster to get myself
out of bed
Going anywhere is quite an adventure, it takes so long
to psych myself into
Leaving the building, taking the tube, oh God, it’s so
complicated
For a head as befuddled as mine
That needs three cups of coffee to function even
minimally
I’m a blob when I should be invigorated
Dash out of this bedroom
Get out and never come back, enjoy life
Find all possible motivation
Be inspired for good to live a full and exciting life
I need to find some ruling passion soonest
Need to be strong instead of passive
Full of energy, functioning, productive
Come on, damn it, I’ve got a life to live
To die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die,
die, die
Yes, but before that:
To live, live, live, live, live, live, live, live,
live, live, live, live
Stop all this bullshit, your degrees, recognition,
social success, happiness
All that’s nothing but wind
And to prove it there are people around the age of
fifty
Who are ill and suffer bitterly in spite of the
important things they’ve achieved
Have you never heard the cry of freedom?
The cry of the feeling of freedom, cut short by all
those things you consider essential?
Maybe you find in them a reason for living. I don’t
So keep your existential crisis to yourself
I have to live my own and it’ll be much simpler
without you
It’s much more difficult to have nothing than to have everything
and lack for nothing
So respect my choices and let me get on without
putting me down
Help me to continue on what you see as my desperate
way
God will be eternally grateful to you
Because you’ll have to pay for destroying my feeling
of freedom
Which is the only thing that can keep me alive
In three days I’ll take a plane
And fly off to rebuild the world as I want it to be
Be happy, I still listen to my own reason
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
After my second day of working twelve hours non-stop
I took the train to Piccadilly Circus
Got on again at Regent’s Park, went to Oxford Circus
Hanover Grand, Popstarz, Indie music
Got there at half past midnight
And drank at the source of what’s been keeping me
going all these years
I watched English youth busy at unwinding
Right in the middle of this hell where you drink,
smoke, pick people up
After several beers and cigarettes people didn’t talk
to each other any more
They let themselves go like lunatics to the rhythm of
the music
They sang and they danced like crazy forgetting that
there would be hell to pay the next day
I picked up someone from Liverpool
We climbed up to kiss each other in front of everyone
Took a taxi to his room in Westbourne Park Road,
Notting Hill
Made love all night and cried out like virgins being
deflowered
Next day I left very early, I had twelve hours of work
to get through
Maybe I’m one of the living dead but I’m living at the
heart of the myth
My allergy to uniforms is at its height
It’s crammed with old blokes wearing ties with
briefcases and smelly armpits
They’re proud to represent the conformism necessary,
according to them, to the way the world works
The problem is that the world they live in is only
virtual
They work in virtuality
Buy virtuality
Feed themselves with virtuality
They’re offered a higher standard of living to enjoy
fictitious amusements
The virtual doesn’t deliver us anything concrete
But it delivers them a huge house and an impressive
car along with their suits and ties
There’s nothing enviable or admirable about someone
who wears a tie
It’s clearly written on his face that he couldn’t care
less about doing something concrete to relieve human misery
On the contrary, he makes a profit from exploitation
Other people work for him to provide him with things
he won’t need
So putting a bomb under him would only benefit the
human race
Except that these people’s lives are insured for
astronomical sums, each of them worth in the region of a million pounds
That’s where the virtual has got us
Overprotecting those who don’t need protection and the
loss of common sense
Too Many Stupid People All Round Me
I can’t breathe any more
I have to put up with the imbecility of someone or
other
Inventing heaven knows what to attract my attention
Then I avoid talking to them because they’re
completely illogical
Sometimes the absence of logic can be admirable
But the illogicality of idiots is totally
uninteresting
God, how I suffer seeing them trailing around me,
seeing them talk to the walls
There’s even one who tells me in every detail the life
story of his idol, Jesus Christ
An African Jehovah’s Witness, a sweeper of floors who
also speaks French
You see it all
When I’m on the brink of a nervous breakdown
When they get on my nerves, and I want to explode,
it’s:
Get out of my way!
Piss off somewhere else!
Mind your own business!
Leave me to get on with my life in peace!
Never speak another word to me!
Go and get run over by a bus and don’t let anyone talk
to me about it!
How to rid myself of human imbecility?
You’ll last me a fortnight perhaps
You’re from Newcastle
From a poor working-class family
And completely uneducated
You hang around the gutters of Camden town near the
welfare building where you get handouts
For six years you lived in empty buildings
You’re an artist inspired by drugs
Your place in Russell Square at five o’clock in the
morning
You can’t breathe there, you suffocate
I can’t breathe with you, I suffocate
But when we make love, God,
You take me out of my hell and carry me off to your
own
I can’t have anything more to do with purity, the
property of parents
Purity that despises the very idea of making love
Purity that lives all its life in the horror of life
Until realising that purity makes people unhappy
Oh love of my life, let’s not wait for the day of
judgement to do something
Let’s fly all around, we’ve got nothing to lose
Can’t anyone else but me see and feel your beauty?
So that I swoon away in your damp, dank universe?
So let’s die consumed at the end of our love
In exactly a fortnight from now
I looked for you on the Californian coast where
someone had shown me an extraordinary view
I looked for you in TV studios where all our dreams
are built up
I looked for you at a table in Caesar’s Palace between
two slot machines
And I looked for you in woods, on mountains where I
was strangely bored
I thought I’d find you in the most famous tourist spot
in Barcelona, flying over an old theme park now in ruins, that inspired me for
a split second
I thought my eyes would be opened in front of the
windows in the red light district of Amsterdam, but I was more afraid than
anything else
Then I walked through the hotel where they hold the
Cannes festival, sat on the rim of a toilet which Harrison Ford had probably
used before me but I felt nothing
I opened the proceedings in front of 6000 people, that
gave me a buzz for about thirty seconds
I let everything drop, I showed myself out this time,
for a change
I wanted to speak to the whole planet but no one
wanted to speak to me
Suddenly they changed their minds and now the whole
planet wants to speak to me
But I’ve nothing more to say to them and what they say
is extraordinarily banal
Sometimes you meet magical people and spend wonderful
moments with them
I haven’t met any for the last five years and I
despair
No one stands out from the crowd, no one has a vision
to fulfil
Their zest for life has thrown them into alcohol and
drugs
Making them happy for a split second
And making their existence bearable a little longer
But it’s destroying them and finishing them off today
I’ve lost all hope
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
Who’s looking for life?
Is there life in this world?
I’ve been searching for it all my life
Late at night in the streets of the world
And I can now say
Death is the whole world
Death is in everything
Death is everywhere
So I can’t speak this language
So I’m here in this world without the right to life
And I still find a way of expressing myself
On all the oceans of this planet
There’s no land which can support life
Only hell
Words have no meaning
No way of expressing what I feel
The result of so many years of ordeal
Has only brought despair
In a world where I’ve got everything
It’s still not enough
I’m dying
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t an anarchist
I’d be lying if a I said I was anarchist
But I hate all politics and political action
Anarchy is most powerful when it’s subtle
Anarchy is most powerful when it doesn’t declare
itself
Anarchy is most powerful when it has nothing to
reproach itself with
I’m powerful because I’m no danger to anyone
But I’m more thoughtful than people who’re targeted,
listened to or in prison
I achieve more than all the anarchists put together
without being one myself
Don’t get in touch with me, I don’t want to know you
I hoped for so much, I’m ready to die but in a good
cause
There aren’t any good causes in this world
There’s no chaos in this world because logic adapts
itself
There’s nothing in this world
There’s no one in this world
There has never been anything to hope for from this
world
Poor you, you thought the world was going to change
You went on that famous anti-globalisation march
You slated capitalism from first to last
A teargas grenade exploded in your face
I caught up with you that night at the police station
And I laughed at your unworldliness
You looked at me, puzzled
I laugh at your unworldliness
Poor you, you thought the world was going to change
You wrote three tomes on the subject of anarchism
They were good, full of ideas and respectable
A teargas grenade didn’t explode in your face
I didn’t see you that night at the police station
And I laughed at your unworldliness
You looked at me, puzzled
I laugh at your unworldliness
Poor me, I thought the world was going to change
I did nothing to change it except perhaps for trying
to shoot myself in the head
The bullet went twenty feet above me
And I laugh at my unworldliness
I looked at myself, puzzled
I laugh at my unworldliness
Ah, there it is all around me
You wonder if it ever takes a shit
It’s crammed with money
Takes its responsibilities seriously
Works hard
Has lovely children and is respectable
Looks at me and wonders what I am
It can’t understand why I only live at night
Why I don’t stay in one place and that I exist in
every country at the same time
Why I persist in destroying my future
But purity doesn’t produce anything concrete
Purity creates nothing but enjoys the creations of
others
They’re a container waiting to receive
I’ll fill you up!
As an anarchist, it frightens me
And kills me
Wasn’t it you who looked disdainfully at me that day
because I was only a street ruffian?
Wasn’t it you who pushed me out of the way with your
foot when I was lying crushed and dead on the pavement?
Wasn’t it you who danced in all your pride and
self-confidence with such petty vainglory that today it makes me laugh?
I remember, it was you who imposed your world-view on
me
Your closed and ready-made interpretation of the
universe
With its strictly limited horizons and several long,
punishing steps to climb in order to get anywhere at all
How wonderful it seemed to me then that you should
make me your mirror
I hadn’t realised the terrible potential that was
slumbering in me
The infinite energy that was going to inspire the
masses
The army that would follow me to trample on you at my
rallying cry
But I’m not content with that, it’s not enough
Because I’m not like you, I’ve no need of that
Which you wanted so much, which you thought you had
and never will have
I’ve been through the hell you described to me as
paradise
And I’m the only one to realise that something other
than that life exists
What was your first name again?
I assumed the title, I admit it
I took the cloak and crown and put them on, I admit it
But I am the dream made flesh again
I’m fired up like ten men
I’ve given you everything and asked for nothing in
return
I’m a revolutionary who has accomplished his
revolution
I built a huge machine which didn’t make a million
You think it’s granted to everyone to be a The Marginal?
You think it’s socially acceptable to be a The Marginal?
Let Christ take a running jump!
A The Marginal is someone who dares to assume the
title and then acts accordingly
Oh lost poet, welcome to my den
You too can be a The Marginal if you dare
But you won’t dare
. . .
Because that needs an ambition you don’t possess
You must have suffered
You must be certain and determined to describe
yourself as you are
You must be full of inexhaustible energy which only
writing can halfway deplete
I can’t hear any criticism, have any adversary
I’m The Marginal
And fuck you!
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
I wrote some fifteen volumes on the subject
You didn’t listen to a word
You produced a work on inspiring politicians
I didn’t listen to a word
You wanted to revolutionise everything, thought your
nation great and glorious
Nobody listened
I wanted to study something interesting in your
universities
You didn’t listen to a word
You wanted my support and hard work
I didn’t listen to a word
You wanted to tear my country apart to be born among
the nations of the universe
Nobody listened
I wanted to play my part, I wanted to be what I am
You didn’t listen to a word
You scolded me for my way of life, for not being part
of my nation
I didn’t listen to a word
Now you’ve got need of new blood because you’re dying
Nobody will listen to you again
Oh yes I remember you
In class you despised me
You put me down in front of everyone
You shone hurling this abuse and other witticisms
I had one hundred per cent written on my forehead, you
had zero
Oh yes I remember you
At the swimming pool you had a man’s body and I had a
child’s
You made fun of me in front of everyone
You even won over the teachers
You had one hundred per cent written on your forehead,
I had zero
Oh yes I remember you
I tried to win you over to my side
I took you home and made a friend of you
You took everything I gave you
But all the same you laughed at me and it was
pointless
Oh yes I remember you
I ran into you years later in a bar
You had some stinking job
You were married
You had a child
You were happy
That killed me
Oh yes I remember you
I remember all of your kind
Every year there was someone like you I had to fight
How did I survive?
I don’t understand it
It’s this memory that’s made me a belated delinquent
It’s this memory that explains my hellish life
But it’s because of this memory that I now live in
London
Oh yes I remember
I know the name of God
It’s a good bottle of brandy
That I drink at night in small mouthfuls
Before I come to understand his infinite wisdom
I know the name of God
It’s a good bottle of whisky
That I drink at night in large mouthfuls
Before I come to understand his infinite strength
I know the name of God
It’s a good bottle of Scotch
That I drink at night in large glasses
Before I come to understand his infinite ability
I know the name of God
It’s an endless series of cans of beer
That I drink at night till I can drink no more
Before I come to understand the incomprehensible
I’m going to take myself seriously
For once in my life
I’m going to take myself seriously
And get a hold on my life
I’m going to make a difference in this world
And that begins with a total contempt for everything
that exists
And a new way of seeing everything that has nothing to
do with what’s taught in universities
Above all, nothing to do with what you learn in the
commercial world of work
I’m going to take myself seriously because I can make
difference in this world!
I can reach thousands of people who share my disgust
with life
Who want a better world even if it exists only as an
idea
Just picturing a better world is already doing
something concrete
If it’s only through extremes that we manage to
understand something
I’ll be extreme
If it’s only through anarchy that we can manage to
build a better world
I’ll be an anarchist!
To hell with all the definitions of anarchy
To hell with anarchist movements that achieve nothing
on this planet
It’s in thought, action and individually that it
happens
Envisaging a better world . . .
A different world where nothing exists any more
A world where authority burbles incomprehensibly
You wanted an anarchist world?
Right, I’ll build it and that’s going to hurt
It starts with contempt for the universe and man’s
pettiness
Being human is being great in the universe!
Being human is not suffering hell on earth
Being human is as powerful as a galaxy on its way to
infinity
Wake up! Get
up!
Say at last that you’re going to live all the mornings
of your universe!
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
Yet again I should weigh up my meagre achievements
Show them to those nice women hoping that some light
will illuminate their universe
So that one chooses me over a pile of the meagre
achievements of someone else
I should go to the centre of London to convince them
that I’m the perfect candidate
And although I don’t want to, fell them on the spot
I really don’t want their offers, they kill me
I’m handsome, I’m pure, I’m perfect, I’m brave
Ah, my idiocy has no limits no motivation
I’m excellent, get things done, I’m sensitive and
honest
Ah, and a strange desire to sabotage your company
Teamwork? Team
spirit? Be at one with you? That’s me!
Ah, I’ll throw up everywhere all over your work and
your schedules, yes indeed!
Yet again I must prove that I’m the better man
Ride into battle against the markets and return
millions to shareholders
So that they choose me over thousands because I’m
able, I’m eccentric
Working in the centre of London and all the big cities
of Europe
Good morning, Sir, Good morning, Madam
Here’s how our solution will bring back your millions
I’ll be your saviour, I’ll be Jesus Christ, I’ll get
you out of your rut!
Ah, the devil will make his entrance in person
I’ve got all the solutions and all the necessary
skills, the results will be phenomenal
Ah, complete bankruptcy, I’ll do nothing apart from
finding a way out of it, again, again and again
I’ll kiss your feet, I’ll sleep with you
Ah, I’ll spit on you behind your back, you can count
on it
Again, again and again
Social reality is a bank
A bank which must be filled with a team of workers in
perfect harmony
The only problem is, we’re all individuals
We all hate each other
Competition is what fills our hearts
Which means enormous jealousy
And endless destruction of the other
Social reality is a jungle
A jungle which demands a conqueror
The only problem is, I don’t want to be a conqueror,
don’t even want to fight
Have I got anything to learn from this hell?
Isn’t twenty years of shit in these companies enough?
Letting myself be walked over, spat upon
What is there to learn there that I haven’t already
learnt?
Social reality could be paradise
Where profit isn’t the law
Where competition and hierarchy don’t exist
Where jealousy is absent
Where stress doesn’t eat us alive
Where joy, pleasure and peace are the order of the day
Haven’t you had enough of hating and destroying each
other?
Sit down with your parents and take note of everything
they want for you
Sit down with your teachers and take in everything
they want for you
Sit down with your employer and listen to everything
he wishes for you
Listen to local, provincial, national and
international governments and try to understand what they expect of you
You’ll be an engineer, a lawyer, an architect or a
doctor
You’ll be the best of the bunch, you’ll write books to
revolutionise your field of studies
You’ll be among the best, the ones the headhunters
steal
You’ll be the perfect citizen, married with children,
religious and paying your taxes
Listen to them all and you’ll be exactly what everyone
thinks best for you
According to their definitions, you’ll be the happiest
soul on the planet
Above all, keep to the straight and narrow, don’t be
revolutionary, don’t challenge anything
They’ll bring you the world on a plate, you’ll be
respected throughout the world
Ah, isn’t wonderful to follow the well-trodden path?
When you’re a success and earn a good living?
When your story has no story
And your name doesn’t alarm any computer
Yes, I tell you, listen to all the voices of authority
on this planet
And do entirely the opposite
Only then will you know you’re an individual who has
choices
Who’s free and has a chance of happiness
It doesn’t much matter if you wake up in a strange
country where you have no right to be
It doesn’t much matter if the love of your life isn’t
lying beside you every morning
It doesn’t much matter if you haven’t got a penny to
get you through tomorrow
It doesn’t much matter that you can’t eat your fill
Do entirely the opposite in the name of your
conscience and your freedom!
Be Marginal and Make a Difference
It’s always possible to leave those you love
It’s always possible to follow other paths
It’s always possible to challenge everything from
morning to night
It’s always possible to begin to live again
Be happy and free!
Create your own universe, even if you have to rewrite
all the dictionaries
You’ll be surprised at the results you can achieve
A personal success going well beyond what anyone else
has hoped
It’s possible to make your life over again!
It’s possible to build a new world!
It’s possible to succeed according to your own
principles!
It’s possible to be happy!
Being marginal has never been forbidden
Losing the respect of others has never been a problem
Saying that others are wrong is acceptable
Making a difference is something to be wished for
The only thing that counts is the final reckoning at
the end of our lives
The only results that count are those we’ve wanted to
achieve ourselves
We must free ourselves from everyone else
Be marginal and make a difference
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
I met you in a bar in Cannes
We’d hardly even spoken before you started insulting
me
Your mate worked behind the bar
You took me to a very private place
Introduced me to your friend who was once a big wheel
in the theatre
We went up to my room at the Majestic
Read poetry all night long
Prevert, Hugo, Baudelaire, Rimbaud
I didn’t know that poetry could be so beautiful when read
in a voice like yours
Romanticism really exists
Passion really exists
I shed a few tears
You left but then came back again
We made love all night
Like lovers
You said it was great and it was
A magic night
The next day I went back to London
With an unforgettable memory
The Most Beautiful Creature on Earth
The most beautiful creature on earth lives in my flat
I call her Murmy
A beauty beyond compare
Sensitivity supreme
A pure soul who has never caused anyone any harm
All she thinks about is playing
Sitting on my knee
Cuddling up to me every night
Spending all day in my arms
Appreciating me, loving me unconditionally
A little heart that beats so strongly
She’s afraid of the slightest sound
But feels safe when I’m close to her to defend her
An extraordinary patience
Eyes always ready to weep
She’s quiet, never argues
I could ask for nothing better
But with beauty comes pain
Luckily, you’re only a cat
In all past ages religions have been challenged
In all past ages political systems have been
challenged
In all past ages science has gone through
extraordinary revolutions
In all past ages there have been geniuses, great
thinkers
But now you’d say the world had stopped thinking
We don’t produce geniuses any more
We don’t go through revolutions any more
There are no more great philosophers
The end of an era came with television
The futurist era threatens to pass us by
Too many things remain misunderstood and unexplained
Too many theories are still unverified
Too many dreams have evaporated with the centuries
Conceiving the inconceivable
Understanding the incomprehensible
Inventing the new thing that will change everything
Imagining new things that will challenge everything
It’s not true that all we discover today is completely
puzzling
There will always be great thinkers
Capable of reinventing everything at a stroke
With the imagination to envisage everything
Because one key opens all doors
We should find them and listen to them
We’re living in the age of telecommunications
Out of all this gibberish
Let’s at least learn to hear the great thinkers
And you, great thinkers, learn how to make yourselves
heard
How am I going to be able to leave the house?
I was arrested again in the Gents in the park with a man
How am I going to be able to walk down the street?
They found pornographic shots of young girls in my old
files
How am I going to be able to go and eat in a
restaurant?
They’re after me for the rape of a young boy
How am I going to be able to travel?
They found an ounce of heroin on me
How am I going to be able to go on living?
I killed my girl friend in a hotel bedroom and I don’t
even remember it
How am I going to go on being an artist?
I’ve put on 300 pounds
Then I called my lawyer and he asked me
How many millions have you got, my young friend?
As much as that?
No problem, as in all previous cases like yours
You’ll go on breathing, living, creating without a
care in the world
Scandal will only be good publicity
You’ll be as rich as ever
Ah, so that’s how it works
That’s what I told myself too
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
I Could Pretend To Be The Devil
I could pretend I’m a young lad
Still virginal in every sense of the word
Who has never made love and is desperate
Who cries every night in his room
I could pretend I’m an anarchist
At the head of an organisation about to murder a whole
lot of people
Because I’ve never lived and I’m desperate
Plotting alone every night in my basement
I could pretend to be a maniac
Who has raped more than one madwoman
Made love with the entire planet
And could meet you any night in a dark alley
I could pretend to be a madman
Who has killed several important people
Who kills every night, even in his sleep
And every night targets his next victim
I could pretend to be God the Father, creator of heaven
and earth
Who plays games with other people’s fate
Letting them be born, controlling them, killing them
as he sees fit
And every seven days creating another hell on earth
But as long as I’m only pretending
Can you arrest me?
Imprison me? Banish me? Execute me?
You have no proof because there is no proof
I’m just like the boy next door
But with an unbounded imagination
And for you, that’s disturbing
I Live in Opposition to the World
You’ve put up with me for seven years
I go to bed at seven o’clock in the morning when
you’re going to work
I get up at six o’clock in the evening when you get
back
For months I’ve been writing every night
I drink and smoke like crazy to find inspiration
You’ve never said a word
You’ve always loved me
You’ve understood me
Which is more than I can say for the rest of the
planet
They’ve never understood anything
They’ve never wanted to understand
It’s not acceptable
Just isn’t done
For them only one way of life exists
Working from eight in the morning till eight at night,
buying a house
Getting married and having children
I’m such a long way from that reality
I’ll always be such a long way from that reality
Because it makes me feel so sick
But it’s not as if I have the choice
And to excuse myself I’ll tell you
It’s God who asks it of me
It’s fate that asks it of me
It’s the magic of the imagination that’s at stake
I have to create the most beautiful universe possible
Create a different world again from the rotten reality
of others
And if I have to die at the end of my work
I’ll die at the end of my work
Would you like to hear a really good story?
A thriller, perhaps
A wonderful love story
Where the heroine will die under a train on the last
page
Perhaps you’d even like to see the blood spurting
And see our heroine’s lovely face once the huge wheel
has crushed it into pieces?
Oh, you love blood, you love accidents
Gunshots, death in close-up
That fills up the time, stops you from thinking too
much
Dinosaurs who tear into scientists
Cars that run over passers-by
Planes that crash into buildings
Nuclear bombs that wipe out cities
And asteroids that destroy entire populations
Except that all that is reality
Reality has long been stranger than fiction
You love good horror stories
Reality when it differs from your boring everyday life
You’d like someone to fire a gun at you
You’d like a nuclear bomb to fall on top of you
Biological warfare would be a fascinating distraction
What kills is routine
Huge conspiracies tell you that life isn’t as empty as
it seems
There’s a mystery to unravel
A truth to discover putting something else in doubt
A fight worth fighting
If it takes the end of the world to make us appreciate
this existence
Well then, roll on the end of the world
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
When suddenly my brain is working strangely
I look around but I see differently
I have flashes of inspiration by day
Even late at night
Wonderful buzz
Suddenly I’m walking along the Harrow Road
I see plenty of Africans and Indians
I live in the worst part of Westbourne Park
But there it is, I’m an immigrant too and I’m poor
I’m crushed under a big green bag at the kerbside when
I come out of the station
I write, write, write my best lines, my most inspired
ones
And nobody questions me, nobody finds it strange
They’re all as crazy as I am
I live in a hostel for poor people
But I’m not on benefits, I’ve got no right to them
But I’m happy, so happy
There’s a canal, crumbling buildings, churches of high
and low denomination
Oh wonderful buzz
And I walk on to Kensal Green cemetery
I’ve spent days and days in this cemetery
I’ve spoken to the parish priest
He’s a part of this story
He’s made the story
He’s inspired pages and pages of it
Harrow Road
Nowhere else have I felt more at home
You think I’ve done what you wanted to do
You didn’t have the courage, I had it for you
But you’re mistaken
You have courage in you
You are what I am
I’m an exact copy of you
You’re my inspiration
When I write, it’s you who’s writing
How can I make you understand?
We’re inseparable
We think in the same way
We act the same
You’re everything to me
You are my energy
Together we’re strong
Together we’re going to walk over everything
We’ve both of us suffered
We’ve both of us been through the worst that can
happen on this planet
We’ll think up a new world between us
We’ll rethink it
We’ll change it
Aren’t ideas strong?
Can’t ideas challenge everything?
It’s ideas that change the world
Forget the rest
Forget the hell of their reality
We’re going to walk on the surface of another planet
We’re going to find a way to get far away from here
We’re going to rethink the universe!
When my parents are talking to me
When the teacher is talking in front of me
When my boss is rambling on
I can hardly keep my eyes open
I struggle to wake myself up
To take in the reality there all around me
None of this was happening yesterday
When I dreamt I could save the world from wretchedness
I could only live in my dreams
And my dreams are ridiculous to the outside world
But my dreams are strong
They challenge authority
My responsibilities and moral duties
By day I’m a zombie
By night a revolutionary
But that’s going to change
I’ll be a revolutionary by day
I’ll dream in broad daylight
I’ll crush all the rest of the world as I go
You’ll be the zombies of my reality
You are the zombies of my reality
Because I have the power to change everything
And you thought I was a zombie
Finding it difficult to keep my eyes open
So as to listen to your balderdash
My God, you still haven’t see anything
My God, you still haven’t heard anything
My God, the zombies are going to wake up!
My Last Cigarette, My Last Beer
I’ve raided my piggy bank to be able to finish my work
Mortgaged up to my last pound
Now I have to declare my self bankrupt
I’ve opened my last beer
I’m smoking my last cigarette
Then I have to find a job
Go back to the world of work after so much criticism
Begin on the treadmill all over again
Get some work experience which should be useful
I’ll be working for someone, perhaps for several
people
Filing papers, recording information on a machine
Receiving messages, sending messages
Travelling on the tube three hours a day
Dying of suffocation on the tube three hours a day
Getting paid a pittance
Smarting at what my father demands in return for my
birth
Pride, honour, respect, vanity
And once more I’ll succeed
I’ll manage once more to integrate myself completely
Become part of the whole
Die with them all
My last cigarette – how I wish it would last forever
My last beer – how I wish I could drink it again and
again
Once more it’s a complete break
I’ve just stubbed out my last cigarette
The end of a world
Back to the Top Back to the Summary
I never wanted to be different
I always wanted to be part of the group
It was never amusing to be pointed out
To have to fight
And all the rest of it
I’ve always been seen as a danger
A danger to the conformism necessary to society
So am I a danger?
Am I such a threat that I must be eliminated?
I’ve never understood why we don’t have the right to
go against the rules
Don’t have the right to say that what we learned
wasn’t true
Don’t have the right to think differently from the
rest
But I’m not going to apologise
I am different
I think differently from the rest
They call me weird
They class me as dangerous
All right then, I’ll be weird
I’ll be dangerous
I’m going right to the bottom of your neurosis
I’m going to challenge everything
I’m going to challenge you
I’ll play out my true role as a marginal
I’ll rally all the marginals on the planet
And become too strong for anyone to fight me again
I am different
And I’ll act accordingly
To hell with conformism
I want to piss
I want to shit
I want to puke all over the place
That’s what you’ve achieved
That’s the feeling I get when I look at your
achievements
It’s not enough, it’ll never be enough for me
So what are you doing about it?
Don’t you want the world to be better?
A world where we can all be happy?
What’s stopping you?
What are your thoughts?
It’s not a matter of law
It’s not a matter of politics
It’s a love story
Love your neighbour, live and let live
Can’t you find it in your heart to want to save the
species?
Open everything up, even your own guts?
What are you afraid of?
That a monster under your bed will come and bite your
toes?
Forget your devilish religion
Forget your devilish laws
Forget overprotecting the brains of your wonderful
children
Just for a moment forget about defending your little
bit of territory
Forget your flag!
We’re more than that
We’re in the process of disappearing
We’re going to disappear from the face of the earth
We must leave
Leave this world
Far, far, far away
Begin again elsewhere
Begin everything all over again elsewhere
Only, will we have the chance?
If you’ve made a profit from someone else’s poverty
If you’ve got a big house and two cars
If you’ve never understood that there is a way of
making things better
There will be no forgiveness