Fire the Fox

Fire the fox

they fished all the fish from the sea
poached all the birds from the sky
just to furnish the mansion of some guy
now we stand in the wasteland
wondering what to do
well i've got an idea, in fact i've got a few
we should go into that mansion
fish out that guy
bind his hands and blindfold his eyes
talkin' revolution baby

little ruger rimfire tucked into my arm
but unless you're a fox my friend you won't come to any harm
but if you're a fox, you'd best be on your way
Get off my television, and don't come back today
it's not that i don't love you, not that i don't care
it's just that there's an order from the sambar to the hare 
and it rules everywhere

there is an order, an order and a plan
and whether or not you like it 
whether you understand
it'll smash you into splinters or raise you on its hand
i'll quarterise the mighty, and magnify the small
till everything is equal in the journal of the poet who sees it all

so if you're still waiting for justice to be served
the laws of space and time won't deliver your just deserts
and there is no reason
but there may be a rhyme
for the hands that shape the future are the poets' hands, like yours and mine

You can listen to a demo of this song on soundcloud  
 

understated jesus

 I was parkin in the park

it was startin to get dark

so i thought i'd come and see you

so i jumped into reverse

and i drove over a bump

and i spilled my tea all over me

(that's why they say don't drink and drive)

you were standing on your step

and i stepped right up and kissed you

and you said "you'll never guess"

i said "what" you said "this is a dream"

if you feel

what you feel

then  it's real

and the needles' in the groove

and the plough is in its furrow

and the geese are on the wing

and the toad is in its burrow

and the fires' on my back

though my tea is getting cold

and the sugar on the bottom

like an insoluable problem

a sensation like it's over

as we pull over into

a pull over and you pull up your pullover

there's a light on on the dash

and it's saying that you're hot

so i guess we'd better pash

whether you've brushed your teeth or not!

if it's real

then you feel

that it's real

if you feel

that it's real

then it's real

you were walking on the trail

and though i was just a snail

i was tryin to catch you

but my boots filled up with slime

and i fell way, way behind

this shit happens all the time

when you're a snail

oh to be a gentle sailor

understanding all the breezes

like an understated Jesus

with a hankerchief for sneezes

and the cartridges are rolling

rolling rolling on the floor

and an autumn wind is blowing

blowing blowing in the door

demo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQVz5xWpRro&ab_channel=muletonic 

THE PECULIARITIES OF DR P

You once knew me

and I still know you

you are my bleeding

and I am you sinew

I have born you

you were churned from the milk of my oceans

where I grew you

you were within me

and I am still within you

born onto the shore

you have learned to walk

you have learned to run

you have learned to hurt me

you have left a velvet scar on my skin

you look me in the eye

as you stick your pick in

you mined me for gold

you mined me all night

we once fled together

out along the old road

you have tasted the water of my second mouth

it was just one lonely month

just a single pipette

you frown so darkly now

as you recite the alphabet

you were my best bastard friend

and now you want to forget

how many days

how many evenings

what is the juice of your mind

it has intoxicated my lung

forever together

eternally apart

your blood is a ribbon

where the earth began to part

I am a 

I am just a splash in your face

you tried me

you tried me again and again

to hit my darkest place

now we untangle

now we jerk apart

your fist is too frantic

mine is clutching your heart

lay us down now

lay us under the earth

we will make the mountains groan

we will reside in a city park

This poem features on my new EP: See it on Bandcamp

She'd never think twice

See her there

staring from the second floor

of an old house on Frenchman's Road

what has she seen? what has gone before her?

a mane of snow where violets grow

eyes of turquoise blue

and she smiles at you

When just a little girl she used to play in the streets

and all her friends would be there

and she'd never think twice cause it seemed

those days would never end

And now she lives alone in her empty home

once hers was the only house on the street that had a phone

now people never call, except for those call centres

she looks outside to see the schoolkids walking home

they're all on their phones

and she remembers the games she used to play.. hopscotch, marbles, knucklebones

When just a little girl she used to play in the streets

and all the neighbours kids would be there

and she'd never think twice cause it seemed 

those days would never end

She accidentally touched the glass that separates her from her past

it leaves her feeling cold and she remembers "oh i'm old!"

despite her new cardigan with the violets sewn on

that she has worn like she has worn her body

ageing while she herself doesn't age

not for 100 days, 1000 days, 30,000...

When just a little girl she used to play in the streets

and all of her friends would be there

and she'd never think twice cause it seemed

her days would all be nice

and now she's 94 and her friends have gone

and her days have grown long like the shadows of the memory 

of her mother's songs that she'd play to her

before the war, in 1934.. 

the pain of the game

Open up the borders release the plague

open the carnival, open the graves

send for your bible send for your cane

sit down at the table, feel the clank of the chain

can't you explain, why can't you explain?

the pain of the game

the moment you were born the race had begun

and you run and you run to catch the fast-rising sun

don't tell them your dreams or they'll laugh in your face

just climb up the ladder, put them in place

and as you climb higher, they start to feel small

pretty soon you'll rule over them all

you run through the forest you run to the lake

you'd better run faster or you're going to be late

to your own execution, it's drawing quite a crowd

and as you draw closer, they start to get loud

the executioner greets you as a friend

he says "everyone's here! everyone you sent (with your pen) to their ends"

you awake with a sweat from the terror of the night

in your bed of delusions its sheets crisp and white

with your lover beside you and the sun on the floor

surrounded by all the good things you adore

but you wish you could speak to them, the ones in your dream

you'd ask them "what does it mean?" 

that your dreams are the machines of your grief

but you spent all the money on new machines of war

while a shivering ex-serviceman dies right outside your door

you run to the churchyard to bury your head

or seek some forgiveness from the souls of the dead

but they won't forgive you, they're not even there

all you can squeeze out is an insincere tear

the further you go, the further you run

the longer the shadows from the fast-setting sun

'till it stares at you coldly straight in the eye

the witness to every one of your lies

the witness to every deed you tried to hide

then it sinks and leaves you alone with the night

now only the mirror can see what you've done

but it won't forgive you it's just like the sun

your family won't protect you nor will the police

nor will the prisoners you have released

but it's in your own head where the judgement is found

it's there with the sound of the pound of your soul going down

There's also a demo of this song here: https://youtu.be/Kyx6hF0rQVU (at about the three-minute mark)

Pay day

how long

must we remain strong

with a shit storm blowing in every other day

you work hard

push through the final yard

and the boss is on his way

you don't know what he's going to say

but today is payday

'the work's done

but you coulda done better, son'

then he rolls off on his merry way

a blank stare

you fall back in your chair

and the kids climb on to play

the tv's on 

but you know it's all wrong

people just say what they're paid to say

it's called news 

but it's a kind of abuse

and the boss watches every day

and before they say it 

he knows what they'll say

especially on payday

and today is payday

you scroll and scroll 

through the wall of trolls

you wonder who their baiting for today

it seems true

like it's you their talking too

and they know who's going to pay

the conspiracy 

will set you free

it's a play within the play

and the boss watches every day

and today is payday

but tomorrow is payback day

you don't fear

cause he can't hear

the words you choose not to say

you feel them though

and sometimes it shows 

when you look at him in the eye that way

he always drives home this way

and the tools are in the tray

and you don't care what he'll say

cause we've all got a new job today

and today is payback day

Muletonic · Payday full lyrics demo

in the old days

in the old days

i would want to write to you about all this

this devastation, this departure

i would want to tell you all about it

about the void you have left in my life

i would say 

how in the blank portals of my room

i look for your lovely body

its familiar bones and places

your corkscrew smile 

puncturing my heart

and drawing out my breaths

about how i'm using the recipes you taught me

how i'm wearing the clothes you bought me

i'm tasting the words you gave to me

every time i speak

and i desire to hear your voice in echo

correcting every dumb thing i say

there's no more familiar voice to me in this world

i am dying to tell you all about this

and hear your reply

because i assume you are going through all this too

and no one would understand this mess i made

as well as you

so long in tune

this pain is the loss of our alignment

its intensity and its reason

is just the very absence it records

that familiarity is what

no longer exists

if i went looking for it in you

i would be faced with the horror

of its disfiguration

as would you it in me

we carry each other's ghost

and we can imagine it as we like

to imagine it

i can imagine you

as in the old days

your tangly hair tumbling down your shoulder

your blissful cheek and your hip

ghost piercing through the London streets

like a wonderful disaster

the wonderful perfect disaster

that i welcomed into my life 

just so it could be messy forever