I like to play 'hard to get' with people who arn't all that interested in me.

This is for when you get blocked out...

This was the last piece recorded for the album, I wrote it over 10 years ago after the death of my Grandmother. The events of February 22 in my homw town of Christchurch, New Zealand, the earthquake that broke our city, put me in a similary sombre…

bonus from yesterday

Inform your decisions All your conditions (But what is the spread, what a sure excuse) desert your ideals For what appeals (So easy to stay undercover girl) Heal Thyself is what you say Lost in thought in the self help section The closer…

Enervate what's in your head No time to talk? A leak instead And yet you wait and yet you wait A break a drain a mottled stain You're Clouding over ambered pain Standing still you're standing still You're never tempted so you've never…

Old school art rock Red clay still shot White board wet rotting fall away No time on the clock It's over mop it up A little left for a holiday Well it's time to stop the routine You might say it just another phase of the game But now…

You are beautifully taken when you have the upper hand when you're in high demand A Lady in Waiting but steady when cloying, precious toying precocious with hunger “Beware” but nobody hears Your wilting complaint "aren't you petty but…

You’re painting a dead end Capturing traces Of throwaway faces You memorize lines You smother your fire To better appeal to the maddening crowd I'm aware Setting you dead to rights when it's easy to blame you for finishing fine When…

There's still a way you rise at dawn Before I feel I don’t belong Before we lock into the worries of the day Yet every morning brings romance A short reprieve a second chance With every heartache comes the hope that I am wrong And…

You know I'm not perfect But I admit when I am wrong I know how to ask for favors One too many times from you But I can be a kinder soul Far better than a polished fool So when you find me falling, ask for grace Don't despair again…

Falsely You call me Desperately At least when it's my turn quickly You agree You're killing off the ways that you could be Someone who's willing to live Or willing to learn Falsely You call me Desperately At least when it's my turn…

I’ve seen the trimmings you destroy The kindness that you avoid Our subtle ways our sad affairs Our vagrant airs dissolve to noise What do you contemplate you're standing still Your posture motivates the scene You still don’t understand…

something (for ImprovFriday 2/24-26/11)

a season in hell by rimbaud,samped and signal-processed,se to music by wordless poem,composed on the roland MC 505 groovebox.

A John Frusciante cover.