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The World Until Yesterday - Official Video

Brutal. Accurate.

Alright, maybe I've still got some shit to figure out.
Been so sure of myself so long I forgot what it is to doubt.
It don't hurt no man to be humbled once or twice in every while.
I turn them into learnings, before they turn into a pile.

It seems the curtain is rising on the second act of this tragic farce.

Alright, maybe I should have gone ahead and raised a flag.
Time might have told, but at the time it was silent,
I decided with the info that I had.
It don't hurt no man to be wrong once or twice in every while.
I'd rather make a mistake than to stagnate,
Two wrongs get me closer to right.

Strap down my heels, so I don't kick in my own teeth.
Strap down my heels, so I don't kick in my own teeth.
Strap down my heels, so I don't kick in my own teeth.

Let it rain on the children, let it rain.

Alright, maybe I won't lead revolutions today.
I never really had a hound in the hunt,
I never felt I had to fight instead of play.
But it don't hurt no man to sit and listen with his mouth disengaged,
I might just be the ally someone needs if I don't make it about me, for a change.

Strap down my heels, so I don't kick in my own teeth.
Strap down my heels, so I don't kick in my own teeth.
Strap down my heels, so I don't kick in my own teeth.

To Dance on Coals

Won't take pride in what others are doing,
Just for being born where they were,
But I'll add to the story myself

Quite the novella it is, I admit,
And just like all good books, there is pain on the pages,
But mine wont, my chapter will thrill.

When they say that home calls I feel it,
It pulls but my heels drag like steel beams.
I will return and bring a piece of the world with me,
And somehow contribute to the land that gave birth to me.
Only then will I take pride.

Won't walk right in the mud,
That my seniors displaced and toiled and tilled in,
But I'll craft, the landscape myself.

As circumstances would have,
I won't hide the fact that I'm glad that I can,
Though I know it took savagery.
It ain't lost on me.

When they say that home calls I feel it,
It pulls but my heels drag like steel beams.

I will return and bring a piece of the world with me,
And somehow contribute to the land that gave birth to me.

I'll wait as the earth spins towards where she were,
Never quite catching her up, now she's off further.

A makeshift home address, a wild life of nomad-ness,
Amidst all this madness, my business is badness.

My own mask goes on first as this plane hurtles to earth,
I'll share my breath, all I can spare, til all my air's dispersed.

Only then.

Upstream Enemies

Simple solutions when complexity reigns
When the bullshit's abundant, the rats leave the drains
With all of the answers and none of the facts
Caught up in stories they don't understand.

To gnaw through the cables and distort what you know
Scenes to create enemies upstream of where the currency flows
Get back down into your sewer is what I say to these rats
Be gone. Be gone now. Don't doubt that we'll send in the cats.

The light in the sky ends up on your plate
It's all just sunshine and chemicals
Conflict, consume, consummate
Like a mud hut in the rain, what is built can erode
I don't want to see the pillars collapse
But I want you to know just how the fuck that feeling goes.

A weak man's idea of a strong man
A poor man's idea of a rich man
A simple man's idea of a smart man
Your idea of him.

Now, drag them knuckles down the pavement son
To the stop at which the bus pulls in
The man who's going to throw you under knows you're coming
He does the schedules, you do the following.

Ain't nothing but the birds right now
The early sun, about as high as my hopes right now
A lot people who have a lot of nerve right now
A lot of cocksure fools who'll choke if they don't open their mouth.

I drive into the pits of hell for another chance to blow you away
False, dishonest, baseless their claims
How sweet to see it all just crumble away
Like a mud hut in the rain.

Omission Bias

Forebears killed the people they hated,
So I can live in a world where I don't have to hate no one.
But I swear I'll find a way to.
It's almost like we all evolved to care about our own, foremost.

But I don't have to give into,
Every little divisive thought that drifts into my mind.
And I'm thinking that you don't really need to do that either,
Or do you? If so then I'll just save my breath in asking you to help us.

Dig ourselves right up out of these holes.
No? I'll fucking do it all on my own if I have to.
Dig ourselves right up out of these holes.
No? I'll fucking do it all on my own.

Concise silence, let the stings bruise.
A wound will only ache as long as I pay it any heed.
But I swear I'll find a way to.
It's almost like my self-control is at the whims of trolls or ghosts.

I know I needn't hasten into,
Brandishing the storm within and stomping on your roses.
Know this. Thought without action may well be naught.
But tell me, what good is action without first a little thought?
And I'm thinking your grip should be around a spade too.
I'll bust my back and stomp these boots to break a little earth,
Come brother we must.

Dig ourselves right up out of these holes.
No? I'll fucking do it all on my own if I have to.
Dig ourselves right up out of these holes.
No? I'll fucking do it all on my own.

Curse the Ripples

I know it's nobody's fault, but I'm blaming someone.
I point my face at the pond and curse the ripples,
For the wrinkles at the sides of my eyes.
The lines invite deriders, there's nothing else to dislike.

I worm my line and drop it, turning all those nibbles to bites.
And ace angler when I'm hauling in the compliments that keep me alive.
I'm edging closer to a fall, the cold water rushing closer, soaking into my pride.
Make sure that no one knows I'm frightened.

Can I even say that? yeah I'm frightened.
Oh I'm frightened, can I say that? Yeah I'm frightened.
But who's the spook?

While it be healthy to expose, it's painful to examine.
While I may mention what I'm nailing,
I don't mention the foam hammers gently tapping my skull.
It's dull but so distracting,
All those directions I'm pulled...

Affirm my spine is stern by hurling epithets, spite,
Hurt people hurt people, it's the circle of strife.
And I'm dancing on that wheel, being rolled through by that stream
That feeds the pond I'm staring into, wondering if it can scheme.

The cold water rushing closer and it dampens my pride.
The splash is so refreshing, but I bite my own line.
And these pesky fucking hammers haven't stopped with their beat.
I may need to roll a boulder to stop the flow of this stream.
It ain't hard to see I'm frightened.
Can I say that? Yeah I'm frightened.
Oh lord I'm frightened.
But who's the spooks?

Not Mine to Begin With

Take it from us man, we know we owe it to you
Don't let exposure wrap it's motherfucking grip around your shoulders.
Behold this, the level of indulgence insults me,
And so does this faulty notion that a nation has it's owners.

So crawl in cold, I've a soup upon the stove
And unfolded a rug beside the hearth to restore the soul to your bones.
I'm sorry your survival inconveniences some of our brothers,
Hypocrisy is running thick in our blood it would seem.

The shepherd don't keep sheep who aren't afraid of the dogs.
The pack discards of the wolf who is unafraid of the boss.
The king don't keep on their knees those unafraid of his wroth.
But me, how dare I betray anyone wanting the things that I've got.

It's mine, it ain't mine.

An easy thing to trade a hammer for a hammock
And either way you're swinging but the latter they just vanish.
So loathe them, you rue the choices you ain't making,
But those so bold to stride towards the podium takes that swing in your name.

Show me the man who invented the ship,
I'll show you the man who invented the shipwreck.
Show me the creator of law,
I'll show you the man who created the criminal.
The traveler beat the path,
That led an army to it's ruin.
I'll just sit here with my pipe hot slinging a tune,
And keep my mind on my own matters.

The shepherd don't keep sheep who aren't afraid of the dogs.
The pack discards of the wolf who is unafraid of the boss.
The king don't keep on their knees those unafraid of his wroth.
But me, how dare I betray anyone wanting the things that I've got.

It's mine, it ain't mine.

Damn Near Nowhere

They sing tales of men who take sail,
And put unknown places in their path.
Intrepid, unafraid to fail,
Or maybe just a little frightened to sit still.

Either way, who am I to judge?
I walk behind them.
They knocked down the door and I file in behind them.

Hang my coat, clear my throat,
Relax cos home now holds me.
I take a seat and write a song all about myself.

I don't want to be the one left standing still.
I don't want to be the one left standing still.

Is this how it goes?
Did I miss the fucking show completely?
If only hoping could have woken someone from their sleeping.

I'd have been there at dawn before the fleet were leaving.
At least to beat a fucking drum to keep the oarsmen heaving.

As it stands I still stand still,
My feet are weeping.
For all the meters that they'll never get to see beneath them.

Some say sweet then, I have all I need.
No need for leaving.
My flag is caught up in a breeze, the air I'm breathing's freedom.

I don't want to be the one left standing still.
No I want to see the whole world for myself.

Self Assessed

And I know the truth,
You want more from your days.
Beguiled, your mind - inquirious, aching, ablaze.

And I know it's true,
You want to own your own time.
Just like he wants to own his, she hers and me mine.

Ooh, I can't let me drag my chains.
All those times that I'd stated I'd do that this day.
I can but it don't come cheap.
Could fall on my face or find firm the dirt at my feet.

I will stomp this stake down to the dirt.

Ooh, I can't let me drag my chains.
All those times times that I stated I'd do that this day.
I can but it won't come cheap,
If I don't sow in spring I know there won't be no harvest to reap.

Cool with you, perhaps but not me.
That I don't need to farm don't mean I get to take it easy.
Greasy, these are my elbows and knees see?
I'm just obliged to other beings, that's how I see it.

Disagree please, feel free.
It may just be the thing that all ideas need to be convincing.
Scrutiny.
How else to truly know what's at the root of me?

I will stomp this stake down to the dirt.

The wolf that guards the coop

It's not the man who has little, but the man who craves more who is poor.
The complacent forever earn my ire
But the raindrop don't feel guilt for the storm

Contempt, the universal tongue
And though I howl at the derision to end
Still I'd be guilty, with no tongue to repeat them
But I hold the role of rolling out red carpet to dissent

Ignite me, scorch me and be done with it
Lets get this over with
But I'm indifferent so when they say we're doomed
They actually only mean you.
But of course the ancient continuity, of which we're all apart
Can take a head long dive to I know you care not where
You'd feed every lion in the jungle on your share

Shit is looking grim in the vault with the door cracked
The yards are getting hard, I starve, i think I might fall back
The trench is at it's brim we swim in yesterday's nimbus
We're crumbling at the gates before we ever get in
Princes may have kept a view but left us out with the wild cats
The royal soil spoiled since they oiled their death traps
The arrows from the towers pummelled cowards til the lay with the flowers
So slayed, hour by hour til they were overpowered.
The wealth was concentrated
Decision bought and paid for by the best that's in the business
All preying on patriotism
Citizen first, Human second
What's your name? State your business
Are you here to pay the statesmen?
Have his ear and compensate him.

Ignite me, scorch me and be done with it
Lets get this over with
But I'm indifferent so when they say we're doomed
They actually only mean you.
But of course the ancient continuity, of which we're all apart
Can take a head long dive to I know you care not where
You'd feed every lion in the jungle on your share

Come brother, we must dig

The dreaded medioque who hurl epithets
Oh my deft hand will swat you down
Small minds come with big mouths
Accursed my soul will be if what you say is right
Woah, whoever deals out damns these day
Can stub out his cigar and clock out early tonight

For the wind I've sown
Whosoever reaps the whirlwind?
And if I speak ill
I do it at my own peril
Do you know what it is to spill
So that the children might grow
Take your foot off my throat

How far further the world would have turned
With your words isolated and hidden away
In a place whose level of stealth ain't determined
Not to be heard til it's cypher's procured
And if this blight on the record occurs
It must be bought by the mind of a man of a standing like Turing
Just look what he did to the germans
Unglued at the height of the second war of the world
A child is known as grown
Not by her years but the knowledge she holds
And you'd do well to know that you don't know it all
'Fore you act against motion in Newtonian law
Oh and if this blight on the record occurs
Let it be stated that nothing is ever secure
So what I said I'd do with your words, I'd reverse
Instead of hiding, I'd have 'em all burned

For the wind I've sown
Whosoever reaps the whirlwind?
And if I speak ill
I do it at my own peril
Do you know what it is to spill
So that the children might grow
Take your foot off my throat

Try as you might I won't be held to court
Despite my revilous retort
I've rights and I've decided I'm not obligued
To honour my devoir toward them

In this windy war of yours I've walked
What seems to be a long way for naught
I dream to see,
Your cash cow get slaughtered and served up as steaks at my feast.

No I suggest we ditch this petty mess
Of taking turns to earn recompense
Who says we're so below
That we won't aim our bellows at savages echoes

Oh if we must be bellicose
Lets fight that our children might sing together
And if I'm not you, therefore we're foes
Prepare to leave your legacy the heir to ruins

I doubt I'd be surprised to find
The door to which your key applied
Was boarded, barred and locked from the inside
Come brother, we must dig.

Shoot twice and Go Home

Whenever I leave
From wherever I depart
Whomever I retire to
God damned if I can't say, I did what I came to do.

Those boots hit the floorboards
With an increasing intensity
Each stride nearer the knock on the door drops a brick on my chest
Cos these footsteps are for me
And yes I did what I came to do

I feel I've fallen on my sword
Was that not the goal all along?
I kept my word
To render myself obsolete
That blade, that blade it turns
And it tears the whole world open,
Nocturnes have filled my opus
Now I'm letting go kid

How's an end to be happy?
Should they not be the hardest part?
There's romance for the strife in this world
But given the choice, I'll take the voyage with the untroubled start
So I could do what I came to do

The day the road is at your wheels,
Your thoughts are all your own
Shift focus, you notice it all
That the landscape is dull, but somehow it's still beautiful
And yes I did what I came to do.

Lets not obviate the situation,
Lets not downplay the duty paid
You're not witnessing resignation
I've done my part, I've earned this day
Don't ascribe capitulation
Don't make light of the wager that I laid
I never conceded, never to this day
And all that I am owed is just a blessing

That I may feel right falling on my sword
Was that not the goal all along?
I kept my word
To render myself obsolete
That blade, That blade it turns
And it tears the whole world open
Nocturnes have filled my opus
I feel I've fallen on my sword
Was that not the goal all along?
I kept my word
To render myself obsolete
That blade, that blade, that blade it turns
And it tears the whole world open
Nocturnes have filled my opus
Now I'm letting go kid
And what came to do, I've done

Live at the Wesley Anne, March 2015

Third on the Match

Ooh, it’s burning low.
You two go ahead,
I’ll light my own.

Rogue umpire, scorecard in the sky,
Balancing the scales of utu,
Who do you report to?
Capricorn caution brought fortune to my door.
What the law renders impossible,
So much the worse for the law.
Causer and effector,
Assign me to a sign, it seems that,
We'll do whatever it takes to divide.
Grant me the opportunity to understand why our eyes are open,
And why they see what they do,
In the short time before they're pinned shut forever.

Ooh, it’s burning low,
You two go ahead,
I’ll light my own,
Thanks though.

Sodium shaker, I'll take a pinch of what you hold.
I sense a few events that I'd prefer did not unfold.
Complacent placebo, don't waste your charm on me.
There's so much more enchantment to be found in reality.
Self fulfilling prophecy,
Not fulfilled because it's true,
But because it satisfies thee.
Teach me the controversy of what we know.
I've got all day to waste listening to pseudo.
No, I'll find another skirt to hold,
Than the archaic hopes you hold.
Find solace in the art of numbers,
At the seat of my soul.

People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.

- George Orwell

Weatherproof, behind the song

My sister screamed through the phone that Dad was dead. I hung up and dropped it. I instantly learnt what shock is.

Earlier that day I'd come home from wherever I was and opened the front door. I lived with Mum and my two sisters. My baby sister lit up and ran at me, joyously yelling "Daddy!". She stopped halfway, disappointed to find it was just her big brother. He hadn't come to pick her up today, as he did every Friday, to take her out home for the weekend. Today he was unreachable.

The weekend prior, he gave me a lift to a party, we stopped at a bottle store so I could grab a 20 box of Double Browns. He was waiting in the car when an old friend walked by. I walked out to find them yarning. Usually I'd already met the people he seemed to know so well - I'd grown up around his mates, but I hadn't seen this guy before. They talked for quite a while, I was always struck by the Old Man's willingness to do so, where others might have looked for the first excuse to move on with their day.

I'd just been overseas for a holiday and this was the first I'd seen him since. While abroad I found myself in the room of a plush apartment containing everything one might need to make and record songs. I didn't get to tinker, but being in that room and realising that a studio can now fit in your bedroom really struck a nerve. So as we drove I told the Old Man about wanting to buy some gear. He offered to take me over to see his mate Richie, who owned the Music Machine. I was sure to be looked after if he took me in, people were very fond of Danny Badlands.

I didn't divulge many other details about the trip, it involved activities you don't yarn to your folks about and I'd always felt uneasy sharing too much with them. We'd been given a lot of freedom growing up and I'd pushed it. There's an understated guilt that comes with being naughty when you have relaxed parents. Plus I was too young to want the guidance, even though it always came wrapped in cool subtlety. I was an excited lad. Refreshed and fulfilled. The future was bright. He dropped me off. I had a wicked night.

The next morning he was there when I awoke at Mums. I felt rotten and didn't want to deal with anyone. I avoided getting up as long as I could, I had no desire to converse, but the need to piss set in and didn't relent. So I eventually arose, did what I needed to do and reluctantly made my way out to where Mum and Dad were lounging with coffee. It would've been rude to not say hello but I was far from good company.

The folks got on better when they didn't live together. Dad would visit often but he'd always take off back to our old family home - the house we grew up in, to the dog we grew up with. Just as he did that day, not long after I got out of bed in bad shape and poor form. It was probably that evening that he died.

Five days later, it's Friday, he hasn't shown up to get my baby sister and Mum starts trying to get hold of him. She made a few phone calls. None fruitful. As the mystery deepened, Mum and my sisters decide to drive out to his house. I had to work. A busy friday night. 30 people to oversee. I went to set up my shift but in no way could I focus. Panic was starting to set in. I phoned my grandad from the glass office overlooking the kitchen at work. He hadn't seen him, his mates hadn't seen him, no one had. He hadn't been to work all week. Hadn't been to band practice. When I ran out of calls to make I waved the boss to the office. I could barely mouth the words that something was wrong and that I had to leave. I got in my falcon and hurried towards the old family home. I pulled over to ring my sister on the way. They'd beaten me there and she was hysterical.

Life became very hard, very quickly. It was the middle of summer. Mum and my baby sister broke in to find his rotting blackened corpse, fallen backwards in it's chair, lying in a pool of dried blood. The hot air thick with flies and stench. She'd married that man in her teens. Her best friend for 20-something years and this is what had become of him.

My 3 year old sister would grow up without a dad and my teenaged sister would lose hers when she needed him most. She was 16 and not long after, also lost her boyfriend in a car crash. These were unhappy girls. Those were grim days. My brother lived in a different town and after he came to see off the Old Man, and help strip and renovate the family house, he had a life to go back to. The bubble of support that came together to mourn eventually shrunk and burst. Everyone else went back to normalcy. And rightly so. But normalcy wasn't so easy in such a wounded household.

My own grief was profound. It came in waves. A cycle of crushing, gut-wrenching sickness, followed by brittle calm and inevitably back again. It consumed all my thoughts. I was forced to confront the delicacy of life unlike I ever had before. It was terrifying. Death and dying began to beg my attention constantly. At such times you can't help but carry difficult and troubling feelings; frightening and disturbing and an unwelcome waste of time. If you let the wrong thoughts creep in, you become engulfed by dread.

Somewhere along the way it became clear that a peaceful mind is more valuable than anything. It struck me that nothing can be done to avoid one day facing such horrors again, but my own fault was in paying mind to those worries, thus prolonging their effect. The prospect of dying or losing someone at any moment saw to it that sitting idle in life was no longer an option. It forced me to reflect on the person my dad had been and to carefully consider the aspects of his character that'd be worth imitating and which ones were best counted as lessons. There's no way to walk away from that situation without a better sense of the man you want to be.

We're all inevitably ambushed by tragedies. They affect you deeply and alter the course of your life; but I think you can control the way in which these events shape you and it can be positive. The sting of loss and the fear of losing people and the fear of knowing that death is imminent certainly weigh on your nerves, but such thoughts can command a strong respect for life. One person's departure shouldn't ruin the precious moments of those that still have them. What else can you do but take whatever inspiration you can, make peace with the tragedy and get on with it all?

“But we were born of risen apes, not fallen angels, and the apes were armed killers besides. And so what shall we wonder at? Our murders and massacres and missiles, and our irreconcilable regiments? Or our treaties whatever they may be worth; our symphonies however seldom they may be played; our peaceful acres, however frequently they may be converted into battlefields; our dreams however rarely they may be accomplished. The miracle of man is not how far he has sunk but how magnificently he has risen. We are known among the stars by our poems, not our corpses.”

- Robert Ardrey

Keepers and the Kept

I’ve never been so hungry, I could chew my own tongue.
Our geography’s closing in, so will more seeds overcome?
Death will be right on our heels.
All exhausted options, we need new fields.

Come Son, I know you don’t want to go.
If you don’t rise to be a man now, you never will.
Death will be right on our heels.
So switch to battle mode Son, and take to the fields.

Don’t look at me while my family licks the crumbs off the dusty floor.
The land that gave us our claims as invaders,
Will be invaded once more.
They’d have us bow at their heels.
All exhausted conformists rake another mans field.

Go Son be sheathed in your armour and fight.
A duel will make a man of you now, or it never might.
Death will be right on our heels.
So switch to battle mode Son, and take to the fields.

You have an abyss for a gut because your teeth are stuck in my arms.
You seem to forget, before arrows and bombs, it was tooth and claw.
I had you bow at my heels.
Exfoliate exhausted faces and pull your rakes through your majesty’s fields.

See Son, the man on the seat is who leads.
But Son, the leader sitting down don’t appear to be a man in the least.
Death is the ache in our heels.
Switch to battle mode Son, bring your guns, your germs, your steel.

We will hoist our rags and read the stars,
And we howl at breeze and the currents to be at our mercy.
We navigate bad lands and seas of scars,
Where we lay our anchor, they'll be at our mercy.

We will hoist our rags and read the stars,
And we howl at breeze and the currents to be at our mercy.
We navigate bad lands and seas of scars,
Where we lay our anchor, they'll be at our mercy.

No, no, no.

When we recognize our place in the immensity of light-years,
And in the passage of ages.
When we grasp the intricacy, the beauty and subtlety, the subtlety of life.
Then that soaring feeling, that sense of elation and humility combined,
Is surely spiritual.

Third on the Match, behind the song

We dug rocks from the earth, extracted the minerals, reconfigured them into machines, sent them into the sky and now they do our bidding at the other side of the solar system. We sent them many millions of miles with physics and engineering, written in the the majestic tongue of mathematics; using the gravity of planets and the suns energy to fuel their journeys. They travel for years and we know exactly when and where they're going to land.

We can see what they're seeing. We know about the dirt they're sitting on and the air they operate in. We see images of the hills they traverse and the skies they're beneath. Someone sits on earth and feeds them instructions through invisible connections, they follow our orders and tell us what they find. We question them across incomprehensible distances. They answer.

Through our machines, we've extended the reach of our eyes and ears. Not only over greater physical distance but also over greater spectrums of energy. We can picture ultraviolet and infrared light and we can hear sounds that are naturally inaudible. We've extended the reach of our minds. We can place our thoughts into another persons head on the other side of earth, instantly. We can measure things that seem to not exist. We can move things without being there to touch them.

To do so, humans need to make incredible predictions; to know the behaviour of a great number of things and how they affect each other and then discover a way to master them. The progress we've made here is perhaps humanity's finest achievement - the ability to witness and build things for which our bodies alone aren't purposed, and to know things that are naturally beyond us.

There was a time when the only information people had came from the relatively humble senses of our bodies; the ones we evolved to help us feed, fight and fuck. As impressive as they are, they absorb only a small piece of the picture. What we see in the world around us, we had to try and explain given a very limited vantage point. Our view was restricted to our immediate surroundings and the spoken tales of other naïve people.

With the development of societies, people who would otherwise need to focus on surviving were freed to spend time studying. Knowledge of the natural world beckoned. Writing made it possible to send information down through the generations and a system was developed for meticulously testing ideas and tossing out the ones which don't stand up to scrutiny.

In doing so, our knowledge slowly accumulated and our tools refined. Our predictions became more accurate. Our vantage point grew and grows still. The shoulders on which we stand are getting further from the ground. Exponentially, our ability to sense the world around us and our ability to observe, record and understand it has expanded. Ideas can be built-upon and sieved for correctness. There is a lot we don't know, and a lot that we assume to be right that we're wrong about, but over time these inaccuracies become illuminated and bad ideas are more likely to be discarded.

The better we understand our environment the better we can survive in it. And to live longer and more comfortable lives it helps to know how to deal with things that can affect your ability to do so; such as weather, water, food, foes and illness. Knowing how the world works is crucial for our continuation. Being born and staying alive is pretty tough. We only know the fortunes of the bold ones who lucked in - we're their descendents. The rest? Oblivion. In the struggle, a few get by, like us, but many more don't. We are the product of the genes that have evaded extinction. Every one of our ancestors all successfully perpetuated. We truly are the elusive. There are species that are more numerously populated, but we have seen further and experienced more.

Our system for eliminating human bias and erroneous thinking, which has allowed us this greater insight, is relatively new. Without it, people did their best to explain the causes of these mysteries using what limited information was apparent in their immediate surroundings. The stories and explanations about the natural phenomena we witness are as varied as all the individuals to have lived on earth.

But now the information we have is better; closer to reality than we had previously. Constantly filtered, constantly being corrected and forever expanding. We now understand the weather and how it affect our crops. We know that germs exists and that they makes us ill. We know what sight and sound are. We know about the tides and seasons. Why the earth moves and the wind howls. We now comprehend the vastness of space our diminutive place in it.

We used to think we were the pinnacle. That it was all here to serve us. We didn't realise that we're just a speck on the canvas of history. We thought that we're somehow outside of and apart from nature and that the things we create are not 'natural'. We call them man-made, or synthetic. Missing the fact that the same physical laws and natural processes that cause a flower to bloom or a star to explode are also responsible for forming the brain which commands the hands to build the spade which digs the rocks that hold the silicon that insulates the microchip that processes the instructions for controlling the rocket that carries our humanity and lands it on a tiny piece of rock hurtling through space, further away from earth than any words could reliably convey. We're all a cog in the wheel of the universe and we're bound by it's mechanics. As much a part of it as anything else that exists.

It's instinctual to try and influence our surroundings, and when we knew less we'd try to persuade nature with sacrifice, to beg mercy of it with spells, potions, chants and dances; to create stories about things we didn't really understand. What else can you do in a deeply terrifying and seemingly indifferent world? But time has proven that the rituals don’t work and that whoever we plead our case to doesn't seem to be listening and that tradition is the worst reason for doing anything and nature is super enough without it's laws being suspended.

The more we refrain from creating stories to fill the gaps in our knowledge and instead be comfortable, but not complacent, about the things we don't yet understand, the more accurately we can know the real phenomena at work in our world. Our ignorance recedes and dangers can be sidestepped. We open up to things that inspire legitimate awe. When mysteries become understood they're always much more stunning than we could have imagined in our fiction and our lives are richer for it.

Nos Sin Término

If there's an exception to every rule, including this one,
Does that mean the only rule is that there are none,
Except this one?
The double blind you’ll find in the thoughts of a prisoner,
Also confined is his accomplice, the only witness.
Would you admit this lesser charge for a dent in your conviction?
Failing that you’ll testify, put an end to that man’s business.
You'll walk free, 'less he a man who repays favours.
Triple the fee you'll pay if you both bet against the clemency of your jail mate.

Make sure the light's off.
Make sure they’re asleep.
Before you walk off the cliff.

Replace the parts of your ship one by one.
Keep the supplanted parts at hand,
And with them build another when you're done.
So which is the real one, and which the imposition?
This retains its function, and that, it's composition.
The pillars of your generation have been favoured for its brave.
But foolhardy can equally sculpt with apathetic clay.
So epoch follows epoch, and the random holds its sway
Order and disorder can either localise or drift away.

Make sure the light's off.
Make sure they’re asleep.
Before you walk off the cliff.

What say the hunger of the Ouroboros suffered?
What of the snake coiled around upon itself, spits its tail out its mouth,
And says satiety's found me?
You wont find me.

You wont find me.
You wont find me.
You won't define me.
You won't define me.

Austere

Hey, I will sharpen my knuckles on you.
Hey, I will pull your head in for you.
You can shine my brass with your flesh now, woman.

I’ll leave you with no knees to crawl on,
But every reason to need a pair.
I will tie the threads in the rope to choke you.
I am your keeper, you will be kept Austere.

But it’s all over now.
For a day and an age it was us or them.
Who are these apes with guns to say they’ll educate us?
Fuck that.

I know you’re not afraid of spiders,
Though you are of their bite.
Cold will be the ocean I hold you under,
Leave cephalothoraxes scattered in the tide.

A roulette wheel between you and your deeds,
And the privilege to spin is all mine, dear.
Make a bag of bones of you and feed it to the hounds,
I am your keeper, you will be kept Austere.

But it’s all over now.
For a day and an age it was us or them.
Who are these apes with guns to say they’ll educate us?
Fuck that.

Dreadnaught

When I say I’m glad we split, it’s not with any hint of malice in my words.
Those years with you were pretty cool,
I won’t deprive them of the nostalgia they deserve.
Though now these days, I guess I'd say it takes an erroneous era,
To know it’s time to hoof away.
I fought fuckin' hard to maintain your hand through all this.

Skim stones by the seaside,
I hope you brought your gun.
Gun shots by the seaside,
I hope your brought your gun.
Gunned down by the seaside,
I see you brought your gun down to the seaside.
And your finger is closer to your thumb, than mine.

Despite your fear of cliche,
At least let me say,
I would have stuck it out, til I was outta days.
The less I have to wrestle to keep from stress,
Well I savour those days,
It’s when I sleep the best.
I fought fuckin' hard to suppress,
The decider in the holster, under my vest.

Skim stones by the seaside,
I hope you brought your gun.
Gun shots by the seaside,
I hope you brought your gun.
Gunned down by the seaside,
I see you brought your gun down to the seaside.
And your finger is closer to your thumb than mine

Every day I stand at the gates of oblivion,
The very next I day I still stand.
Every single day I face what it is that rocks dream about,
The very next day that stone rests in my hand.

I’m alive.

"The decision to play it safe, to take the path of least resistance, can seem irresistible, particularly if you have your own doubts and fears about the alternatives. And for some people it seems easier to avoid ruffling feathers and have the approval of parents, siblings, and spouses. But not for everyone."

- Sir Ken Robinson

Rebel Rolls

Take a brazen gaze, spit in the face of every fear.
Roll on unfazed, untamed, uncoerced and revered.
Take a razor to the label, not by intent that you ever wore.
But don't glaze the thigh of the little guy, when the plebs come wanting more.

So bowl 'em over, just keep your face one-sided.
Demand Control, just keep the earth beneath your feet.
The rebel rolls, taken by all that's joyous.
So take it easy, cos that's how the rebel rolls.

Take enamored stands.
Tear at the throat with the thickest cords.
Bleed the crown of the biggest skull around and loathe to allow it be yours.
Be the beacon in some drifters sea, tie a lash round the logs in their raft.
We're only separated by subtleties,
And the takings ain't just for the whores.

So bowl 'em over, just keep your face one-sided.
Demand Control, just keep the earth beneath your feet.
The rebel rolls, taken by all that's joyous.
So take it easy, cos that's how the rebel rolls.

That's how the rebel rolls.
That's how the rebel rolls.
That's how the god damned motherfuckin' rebel rolls.

Take a brazen gaze, spit in the face of every fear.
Roll on unfazed, untamed, uncoerced and revered.

"The first principle is that you must not fool yourself, and you are the easiest person to fool."

- Richard Feynman

The World Until Yesterday

Listen little lamb, I implore on you my qualms.
You and the company you keep are doing your best to bring me down.
While your appearance is idle,
You have more power than I do,
For you’re in the industry of drama.
Sshhh.

At a casual glance of this chronicle I hold,
The words do nothing more than beg me to ignore them.
They’re ashamed they have to sit
In this order they were writ.
They read, “Please my lord I urge you to destroy me”.

And you might wish,
Like Oh I chose,
To kill the inner cynic ruminating through my thoughts.
And you might wish,
Just like I chose not to be,
Presenting problems with no offer of solutions.

Is this me? Do I reflect the world’s unease?
Do you really need to be reminded that you’re soon to need your knees?
I refuse to be accountable a second more for,
Society’s taste for anxietal things.
And I demand now that you reconfigure me,
In a new voice, with a new theme
And a new tone, In a new scene.

And you might wish,
Like Oh I chose,
To kill the inner cynic ruminating through my thoughts.
And you might wish,
Just like I chose not to be,
Presenting problems with no offer of solutions.

Sshhh.

"When we recognize our place in the immensity of light‐years and in the passage of ages, when we grasp the intricacy, beauty, and subtlety of life, then that soaring feeling, that sense of elation and humility combined, is surely spiritual."

- Carl Sagan

The Linchpin

Six sigma makes you sick.
Lady muck would trade fingertips.
Synovial Hinge could hold,
A dastardly dose of noir gold.
Place one brick on your wall each day,
And take stock when you go.
Curse you Komodo, I see you picking up the pace again.
I thought I fought you long enough.
There’s no virtue in the lizard den.

Riddle me this,
Who would you trust to pick your numbers if not you?
Who would you trust to pick your numbers if not you?
Who would you trust to pick your numbers if not you?
Who would you trust to pick your numbers if not you?

Stealth and insignificant,
Thrown at no wall, you’ll never stick.
Choose the chosen choice too soon.
Deem the darnedest deeds to be doomed.
Chin out, fists up, storm a route.
No doubt they’ll clear.
Curse you Cobra, I see you’re rearing up your capo again.
I thought I charmed you long enough.
There’s no fortune in the serpent pen.

Riddle me this,
Who would you trust to pick your numbers if not you?
Who would you trust to pick your numbers if not you?
Who would you trust to pick your numbers if not you?
Who would you trust to pick your numbers if not you?

Don’t risk being a cog amongst a pile of linchpins,
with echoes of past plans dampened down in the doldrums.

Reprieve

When I feel the weight of the week,
Go rolling over my shoulders,
My work is done so I roll up my sleeves,
Time to handle my real business.
And if the yarns are as free, as the evening is deep,
You’ll have to slap my smile to watch the excess mischief spill.

Resign this night to revelry.
Find an Ernest 'Way to make,
The mundane interesting.
Of grape and of grain,
And in these matters, a pure lack of restraint.

When I feel the weight of the week,
Go rolling over my shoulders,
My work is done so I roll up my sleeves,
Time to handle my real business.
Where do you hold these moments?
Place them right between your ears and squeeze.
So one day I'll reminisce and there you'll be.

Resign this night to revelry.
Find an Ernest 'Way to make,
The mundane interesting.
Of grape and of grain,
And in these matters, a pure lack of restraint.

Be done with fools and be done with their rules,
and be done being told what I can and can't do.
I'd rather raise hell with you.
Tedium can be stalled but the cure is Elusive.
Gather a congress of characters in the company of whom,
Heresy is precluded.
I'd rather raise Cain with you.
Raise the jug in your fist and be done with your brew.

"It's not the man who has little, but the man who craves more who is poor"

- Seneca

Weatherproof

You’ve seen the guts ripped from my stomach,
And treated to the wolves.
But did you see me keel? Far from it.
I took my nerves to school.

I just simply stood where rocks would be moving,
And I lay my blame down in a manger.
And I’ll go kicking doors down,
Til there ain't nobody left a stranger.

So the peeps bicker and battle,
Over land and of cattle.
There are bigger scores on my mind to settle.
Bigger cities in my way, to level.

And the minutes walk on in only one direction
And as morning to night, turn my mourn to might.

Cold, cold, cold,
Cold blizzard blowing my way.
And it could land,
Any fuckin' minute of the day.
And I have no way of knowing when,
But I still know,
You can’t outrun the sun, No!

Though I'll still pin my ears back and run.

Against the soul-consuming, beastly, winter blast.
So make these bad moments just moments,
And make the good ones last.

And the minutes walk on in only one direction.
And as morning to night, turn my mourn to might.

Rock, Paper, Digits

You put our names down on your stones.
Told the children we gave in to,
The temptation that leads to everything they know that stings.

Your put our names down on your paper,
Proclaim the tales as sacred.
A slight exaggeration.

At least it makes for a good read.

You dragged our story down to digits,
Boolean, cold and rigid.
A misrepresented existence.

At least it makes for a good read.

But you know it’s not my fault,
You put a fuckin' apple in my face and you told me not to have a bite.

You could say,
I’m a goat that’s escaped and your garden didn’t grow,
So you said that I pissed all over your roses.

Take the blame yourself.
Take the blame yourself.
Those are your sins.

You took that beauty from my rib bone,
Wrapped in porcelain skin tone.
Had but one choice that she owned.

But then that snake opened its fangs
Slippery words but the first I’d heard,
Not belonging to a man.

Wonder what my mother would have said.

You think we’d tell a single soul, no,
One of you pricks must have told.
Man, if you’d only gone and told me how much trouble we'd cause.

Wonder what my mother would have said.

But you know it’s not my fault,
You put a fuckin' apple in my face and you told me not to have a bite.

You could say,
I’m a goat that’s escaped and your garden didn’t grow
So you said that I pissed all over your roses.

Take the blame yourself.
Take the blame yourself.
Those are your sins.

How dare you do what I predetermined you would do?

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