You have put me in my place,
I now know where I fit,
you’ve told me over and over,
that here is not it.
I belong somewhere else,
in someone else’s arms,
far away from you,
where to me will come no harm.
Was I in someones way,
did I keep her from you,
I can’t believe this is how you treat me,
as good as I was to you.
I came to you and
my heart was on my sleeve,
I told you that I love you,
and you said you’d never leave.
My feelings are never fading,
these feelings I have for you,

I came to you with my heart true of love and affection,
opening myself completely,
still unable to make this love a connection.
I believe the way that I feel, it’s all a joke to you,
because when I try to talk,
laughing is all you seem to do.
I don’t think you want a love, as true as what I have in my heart,
trying to make this right for us,
and being rejected from the start.
Though you said you loved me, and that you wanted us to be,
this relationship isn’t what you want,

My love you have refused,
I feel I’ve been set free,
you told me that you care,
you just no longer need me.
Time was spent like I don’t belong,
feeling so out of place,
discarding my love completely,
I’ve seen the doubt upon your face.
You say we can’t be saved,
I will try no more,
all the years I’ve spent trying,
we have waisted about four.
No, my love will never stop,

My words are very simple, so easy to understand,
you desperately took hold of me, then quickly let go of my hand.
My head is full of memories, my heart so full of pain,
I cannot set myself up, just to go through all this again.
We’ve lost so much time, and the days keep passing by,
today will be the day, I wipe our memories dry.
Not only do they bring me down, but they pull me so far away,
these simple words I’m saying to you, I thought I’d never say.

intro by Seanchai, an Irish rapper from Brooklyn, NYC, and former member of Black 47. Also a former NYC cop: "You don’t need guns to keep the people down, just give ‘em TV’s on estates outside town. Make ‘em want things you know they’ll never have then give them heroin to get under their skin. Like Connelly said: ‘When the fighting stops, the real war begins.’ "
What we need
is another F*cking French Revolution
right on Hollywood and Vine,
and in the midwest.
What we’re missing
is Bolshevism,
is the fire in our bellys.

A succession of headlands fades mistily,
soft europeanly
so unlike our fiercely factual australian light.
I expect a dragon to swoop from the clouds,
or at least a viking longship to sweep into view
they don’t
perhaps its best that way.
Australia’s spirits are strange beyond belief.
And I choose not to mess with them.

Legend
 
The blacksmith’s boy went out with a rifle
and a black dog running behind.
Cobwebs snatched at his feet,
rivers hindered him,
thorn branches caught at his eyes to make him blind
and the sky turned into an unlucky opal,
but he didn’t mind.
I can break branches, I can swim rivers, I can stare out any spider I meet,
said he to his dog and his rifle.
The blacksmith’s boy went over the paddocks
with his old black hat on his head.
Mountains jumped in his way,
rocks rolled down on him,

Lie to me pain
so I have to feel
lie to me love
so I have to stain
lie to me lies
so I won’t know my pain
lie to me lies
so I won’t have to stain

The red fountain
that sits beneath the mountain
it represents my love, my grace
it holds emotion in my face
as a dense growl escapes my soul
into the land it takes it’s toll

Lonely eyes don’t cry
for fear my soul might bleed
Lonely heart don’t die
for fear I might be in need
 
I do not now what I once did
for fear I might lose my way in the dark
I do not fear what lies ahead
for fear must be kept on mark
 
Lonely soul don’t fly
for fear I might fall from a high
Lonely as I am inside
that must be the way I’ll die