I was gifted a book by somebody who loved me about a man who got even with God.

Short back and sides, Dinner plate eyes blown wide. A pigeon chested young man, a brother steps out of a tomb of toxicity and ruin, spent his money on cheap wine.

Just across from my old street there’s a place called Tin Pan Alley, where I’ve wandered many nights first went many moons ago.

I’m singing this song in an act of rebellion. If I wear a white shirt would my appearance seem clean

At the back end of town at the unholiest hour you may find love in a Snug. But if you’re not in the know, sure you wouldn’t even know it was there.

It stabbed me in the chest like the pimp prudent's knife into poor wandering Beckett under a mother of pearl sky.

Won’t you meet me down, down by Barrack Street. Where the sailors all come in to greet their families.

A little boy sits on a doorstep Lifting his hands for to dampen the sound Of a bitch who is informing the neighbors of intimate acts with some waif

In my twisted arms you fell asleep as the cathedral bells rang out over the chimney lots of Harcourt street.

I’m just like my mother, she sighed only she hides it better. I see colours in words, I’ll draw pictures for you.

I'm continually amazed at the serendipitous happenings music brings to life

Could not refresh feed’ the epitaph read, all cookies accepted no heed to play dead.

Waking up on Friday morning hear the binmen bawling

We were in the war. The monk at the alms door.

There’s a breeze and it’s blowing me down the road, rattling this bag of bone

As I make my way through the storm, there’s a scrapyard prowler on my tail

I met the King of Ethiopia atop a double decker bus this morning bright and early speaking with his hands he severed heads wearing the uniformed from of

There's a breeze and its pulling me up the Mountainside

Smothering my ego and my pride as I kick up the dust

Wounded animal, prized game

Sunburned hide still seeking, peeking

When will you be back to take the naked photographs of me

Wear the head scarf around your neck Roll the ends of your corduroy jeans

I'm the nightwatchman seeking out words and melody In need of a bed in need of a bed

I was getting ready for summer in a late night Pharmacy when a person of interest came and asked me to dance 

I have just realized, my mind has been asleep, my past lives in a mausoleum.

A strange bird came to my window last night powdering her nose she recommended it was time for me to go home

Hungry eyes glisten in the night  They have lured me here innumerable times.

Stand beside me when all the buses have stopped and lollipop ladies have drawn their last drag when the debutant Queen has been reduced

I'm off to meet an Estonian girl by the Panama Cafe I'd give up the cigarettes if she asked me, I'm obliging that way

Part of me died that sharp morning by the seaside when you handed me your last cigarette