Poetry as song: Changed the lyrics to Counting Crows "Another Horsedreamer's Blues" to:
He has been planning for a ripper of a night.
Work functions need him
More than his wife does at home
Success is measured by the coke that you sniff
Not the time that you spend with your kids.
He’s trying to hang onto
His life 10 years ago
But what about his 3 kids at home?
Last night he got pissed
Then he smoked a spliff.
He steals a smoke every lunch break to keep sane
He’s trying to fit in
With the work kids
Can’t become the father he needs to be
He’s trying to hang onto
His life 10 years ago
But what about his 3 kids at home?
He tells everyone what he did on the weekend.
Hoping they’ll all treat him like they would a real friend.
His hair is all grey, stiff and wiry, and
could it be from his 1 month old baby, or
partying till late like a stoned teenager.
His eyes are tired from his 3am high.
A night out with a thin chopped white line
Living it as long as he has the money
And when clients need him
He’ll help them out right
Just don’t expect that he’ll be home in bed tonight.
He’s trying to hang onto
His life 10 years ago
But what about his 3 kids…
He’s trying to hang onto
His life 10 years ago
But what about his 3 kids at home?
Writing the Gods
A throne or a pedestal?
12 inches higher than anyone before you.
At his right hand sits Mark Holden
On his left is Marcia.
King Kyle with his spiky crown, one day will be sacrificed for ratings.
Performers sing for him. Harmonic jesters.
He creates not man, but mans idols.
Join him. Eat of his success and raise your cup to his glory.
For comments observed.
Evil eyes… he’ll criticize.
Calling it a jelly belly makes good telly.
No miracle will sell your records; Unless deafness is cast across the entire population.
This is the word of Kyle Sandilands.Thanks be to him.
