Tuesday 30 September 2008
Wax Lyrical
There has been a number of requests for the lyrics of my songs to be published. Well, here, I finally acquiesce and leave them for your critical eyes...feel free to comment and attempt to describe what each song is about, and perhaps I shall confirm or correct those assumptions.
I'll Drink to That
I'll drink to that, I'll drink to anything and everything, that keeps the spirits high and flowing befriended strangers from going oh anything will do, to occupy the mind of a fool.
Some put their trust not in god but in vanities. Capital drives the fruitless slog and perpetuates insanity. I put mine in the competent hands of the barkeep. I'd rather be propping the bar up, than have the whole world baring down on me.
Yes, I'll drink to that, I'll drink to anything and everything, that keeps the spirits high and flowing befriended strangers from going oh anything will do, to occupy the mind of a fool.
How awful it must be to be terminally employed. Why toil away at trifles when you can be permanently devoid of all the qualities that make up the so called modern man? I'd rather be ridiculed than ridiculous with a glass held in my hand I say...
I'll drink to that, I'll drink to anything and everything, that keeps the spirits high and flowing befriended strangers from going oh anything will do, to occupy the mind of a fool.
For every dram of pleasure I've swallowed and ocean of pain. With all my heart invested and not a penny to my name. The thanks I get is equal to the sum of worthless acts of kindness less than none are a part of the qualities that make up the so called modern man. I'd rather be ridiculed than ridiculous with a glass held in my hand I say...
I'll drink to that, I'll drink to anything and everything, that keeps the spirits high and flowing befriended strangers from going oh anything will do, to occupy the mind of a fool. I'll drink to that, I'll drink to anything and everything. Even to enemies, their health, their families, their wealth, oh anything will do to keep me from the horrors of solitude.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
Some put their trust not in god but in vanities. Capital drives the fruitless slog and perpetuates insanity. I put mine in the competent hands of the barkeep. I'd rather be propping the bar up, than have the whole world baring down on me.
Yes, I'll drink to that, I'll drink to anything and everything, that keeps the spirits high and flowing befriended strangers from going oh anything will do, to occupy the mind of a fool.
How awful it must be to be terminally employed. Why toil away at trifles when you can be permanently devoid of all the qualities that make up the so called modern man? I'd rather be ridiculed than ridiculous with a glass held in my hand I say...
I'll drink to that, I'll drink to anything and everything, that keeps the spirits high and flowing befriended strangers from going oh anything will do, to occupy the mind of a fool.
For every dram of pleasure I've swallowed and ocean of pain. With all my heart invested and not a penny to my name. The thanks I get is equal to the sum of worthless acts of kindness less than none are a part of the qualities that make up the so called modern man. I'd rather be ridiculed than ridiculous with a glass held in my hand I say...
I'll drink to that, I'll drink to anything and everything, that keeps the spirits high and flowing befriended strangers from going oh anything will do, to occupy the mind of a fool. I'll drink to that, I'll drink to anything and everything. Even to enemies, their health, their families, their wealth, oh anything will do to keep me from the horrors of solitude.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
Who Would Have Thought We Would Go to the Moon and Stop
Who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop? To harness the power of swoon and then drop, the reins as if failure were not a choice but preordained by an authoritative voice, who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop?
I'd have burned down that flag if we'd stayed long enough and replaced with a symbol of love, but matches won't work without air, and hey maybe that's why we got scared?
Who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop? To harness the power of swoon and then drop, the reins as if failure were not a choice but preordained by an authoritative voice, who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop?
The man who hangs in the crescent we thought was just charming and pleasant, but critics will always be there, and hey maybe that's why we got scared?
Who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop? To harness the power of swoon and then drop, the reins as if failure were not a choice but preordained by an authoritative voice, who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop?
Now we sit side by side thanks to friends who conspired. Let's return to the moon, let's return to full swoon, let's return to the moon and pick up where we left off.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
I'd have burned down that flag if we'd stayed long enough and replaced with a symbol of love, but matches won't work without air, and hey maybe that's why we got scared?
Who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop? To harness the power of swoon and then drop, the reins as if failure were not a choice but preordained by an authoritative voice, who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop?
The man who hangs in the crescent we thought was just charming and pleasant, but critics will always be there, and hey maybe that's why we got scared?
Who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop? To harness the power of swoon and then drop, the reins as if failure were not a choice but preordained by an authoritative voice, who would have thought we would go to the moon and stop?
Now we sit side by side thanks to friends who conspired. Let's return to the moon, let's return to full swoon, let's return to the moon and pick up where we left off.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
All Of Me
Forgive me not for the slightest humility. Question not my plight's futility. You once handed me your heart, I just crushed it with a laugh. Treat me not as a gentleman, but like the savage that I am...and you'll have all of me. Yes, I mean all of me. Well, what's left of me, is yours to keep and do with as you please.
Now you have my attention undivided, walk on as if you care not in the slightest. I've tried many avenues and they all seem to lead to you. You must convince me that I am something you cannot stand...and you'll have all of me. Yes, I mean all of me. Well, what's left of me, is yours to keep and do with as you please.
And here in the flames of passion, I attempt to beat down with my rationale...well to burn under your scorn is a better fate than none at all...and you'll have all of me. Yes, I mean all of me. Well, what's left of me, is yours to keep and do with as you please.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
Now you have my attention undivided, walk on as if you care not in the slightest. I've tried many avenues and they all seem to lead to you. You must convince me that I am something you cannot stand...and you'll have all of me. Yes, I mean all of me. Well, what's left of me, is yours to keep and do with as you please.
And here in the flames of passion, I attempt to beat down with my rationale...well to burn under your scorn is a better fate than none at all...and you'll have all of me. Yes, I mean all of me. Well, what's left of me, is yours to keep and do with as you please.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
No Tomorrow
So you say, there's nothing here to live for. Everyday I long to hear my name called. Even though I prepare the ground for words to leave you, still they don't tumble forth so freely.
And you wish there was no tomorrow, and damn yourself to the heights of sorrow. There's no exception to your rule, I'm just another bloody fool.
I exclaim at such a fine mess you keep. I'd clear it up if only you would let me sweep. You can hang your head, just let me tip it up at times, into my eyes tell me that you are mine.
But you wish there was no tomorrow, and damn yourself to the heights of sorrow. There's no exception to your rule, I'm just another bloody fool.
Hmmm.
Now I wish there was no tomorrow. After you I'm compelled to follow. Now I wish there was no tomorrow. After you I'm compelled to follow. I don't understand a bit and here's testament to it.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
And you wish there was no tomorrow, and damn yourself to the heights of sorrow. There's no exception to your rule, I'm just another bloody fool.
I exclaim at such a fine mess you keep. I'd clear it up if only you would let me sweep. You can hang your head, just let me tip it up at times, into my eyes tell me that you are mine.
But you wish there was no tomorrow, and damn yourself to the heights of sorrow. There's no exception to your rule, I'm just another bloody fool.
Hmmm.
Now I wish there was no tomorrow. After you I'm compelled to follow. Now I wish there was no tomorrow. After you I'm compelled to follow. I don't understand a bit and here's testament to it.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
Bondage and Lies
Girls, your deceit runs Atlantic deep. Don't you know that love's not guaranteed? There ain't such a thing as a heart shaped receipt. No return period or exchange policy. The choice you make is the grave you'll keep.
Until death do you damage you'll defend, as long as the means justify the ends.
Boy they'll fool you to believing it's the path to paradise, soon the boat will be leaving, but it's disaster in disguise, 'cause where there's female you're bound to find bondage and lies.
It's a conspiracy to pervert the course of a dream, the blueprints of which are locked within your machine. You can't prize out a heart with a spoon, or on a stick balance the moon.
Until death do you damage you'll defend, as long as the means justify the ends.
Yes, we are guided by shallow voices and we're at odds to tell you why. Don't be complaining or complacent or underestimating what's inside, 'cause where there's female you're bound to find bondage and lies.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
Until death do you damage you'll defend, as long as the means justify the ends.
Boy they'll fool you to believing it's the path to paradise, soon the boat will be leaving, but it's disaster in disguise, 'cause where there's female you're bound to find bondage and lies.
It's a conspiracy to pervert the course of a dream, the blueprints of which are locked within your machine. You can't prize out a heart with a spoon, or on a stick balance the moon.
Until death do you damage you'll defend, as long as the means justify the ends.
Yes, we are guided by shallow voices and we're at odds to tell you why. Don't be complaining or complacent or underestimating what's inside, 'cause where there's female you're bound to find bondage and lies.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
The Last Drink
A swig in the morning to combat the yawning and the pangs of clarity you predict will bring you sanity. It takes gallons of stamina to keep up the pace, to endure the misery you day to day face. There in lies the heart of your story, there's more value in decadence than in love, wealth or glory!
The last drink you bought was your first, and even that came from your daddy's purse. And now you're hooked on the romance of the glamorous drunk, and you've no idea just how low you've sunk.
You're the sediment of society, at right-angles to sobriety, with no means or method to fund your junk but your body and soul, any cretin can afford, with a price this low.
So let the bottle slip from those delicate fingers, I'll lead you to a kiss that will enlighten and linger. Where you're headed you'll be deprived of the gutters and stars. The trouble with prison babe, is it has the wrong type of bars.
The last drink you bought was your first, and even that came from your daddy's purse. And now you're hooked on the romance of the glamorous drunk, and you've no idea just how low you've sunk.
You're the sediment of society, at right-angles to sobriety, with no means or method to fund your junk but your body and soul, any cretin can afford, with a price this low.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
The last drink you bought was your first, and even that came from your daddy's purse. And now you're hooked on the romance of the glamorous drunk, and you've no idea just how low you've sunk.
You're the sediment of society, at right-angles to sobriety, with no means or method to fund your junk but your body and soul, any cretin can afford, with a price this low.
So let the bottle slip from those delicate fingers, I'll lead you to a kiss that will enlighten and linger. Where you're headed you'll be deprived of the gutters and stars. The trouble with prison babe, is it has the wrong type of bars.
The last drink you bought was your first, and even that came from your daddy's purse. And now you're hooked on the romance of the glamorous drunk, and you've no idea just how low you've sunk.
You're the sediment of society, at right-angles to sobriety, with no means or method to fund your junk but your body and soul, any cretin can afford, with a price this low.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
The Last Embrace
With St George's pigeons as my witness, on this bench I consume my last picnic. I've not got so far in this race, well give me a bottle of fire for my last embrace.
It's been with me through the thick and through the thin. Oh why should it not be to what I cling?
When you can't store and recall the best of your kisses...Love gives out in the last issues.
What does one expect to find behind the final curtain but an old broom and pair of gloves? A private show, no admission. Including the ones, you've loved.
Even if they were with you through the thick and through the thin. There's room for just one in this great transition.
Despite all your efforts, they're superficial: Love gives out in the last issues. Love gives out in the last issues. Love gives out in the last issues.
With St George's pigeons as my witness, on this bench I consume my last picnic. I've not got so far in this race, well give me a bottle of fire for my last embrace.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
It's been with me through the thick and through the thin. Oh why should it not be to what I cling?
When you can't store and recall the best of your kisses...Love gives out in the last issues.
What does one expect to find behind the final curtain but an old broom and pair of gloves? A private show, no admission. Including the ones, you've loved.
Even if they were with you through the thick and through the thin. There's room for just one in this great transition.
Despite all your efforts, they're superficial: Love gives out in the last issues. Love gives out in the last issues. Love gives out in the last issues.
With St George's pigeons as my witness, on this bench I consume my last picnic. I've not got so far in this race, well give me a bottle of fire for my last embrace.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
This I Ask Of You
Baby, you can tell me anything you like. It doesn't matter, we're strong right?
Her confidence was the only thing on my side. The first thought you have is the longest to hide.
This I ask of you: won't you let yourself out? Don't tell me how it came about, just get the light on the way out. 'Cause there's no need for that now. Let the shadows mute the howls.
Baby, you can ask me anything you like, for yourself, but don't expect some reprise. The consequence of dark conspiracy, despite what you think does not depend on me.
This I ask of you: won't you let yourself out? Don't tell me how it came about, just get the light on the way out. 'Cause there's no need for that now. Let the shadows mute the howls. This I ask of you: won't you get the hell out? Before I begin to howl. Before I begin to howl. Before I begin to howl. Before I begin to howl.
Drink up, drink up, those tears of love, for all that is bitter can be considered enough.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
Her confidence was the only thing on my side. The first thought you have is the longest to hide.
This I ask of you: won't you let yourself out? Don't tell me how it came about, just get the light on the way out. 'Cause there's no need for that now. Let the shadows mute the howls.
Baby, you can ask me anything you like, for yourself, but don't expect some reprise. The consequence of dark conspiracy, despite what you think does not depend on me.
This I ask of you: won't you let yourself out? Don't tell me how it came about, just get the light on the way out. 'Cause there's no need for that now. Let the shadows mute the howls. This I ask of you: won't you get the hell out? Before I begin to howl. Before I begin to howl. Before I begin to howl. Before I begin to howl.
Drink up, drink up, those tears of love, for all that is bitter can be considered enough.
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
Odessa
I sit at my desk writing reams of mess, about the commonwealth of independent fates, or the convergence of finite mistakes, and how we could figure in all of this. We could have it all if you'd only say yes, yes, yes...
Odessa, I say it regrettably. Odessa, uncontrollably ashamedly. Odessa, I confess you're just a name to me, but oh, no, oh, Odessa. How I want it to be more, is it possible we could be more?
Look out here comes dusk, the curtain dawns on our lust. The boats pile out and the fog creeps in. It's a pale and daunting early evening, a look out on a deep blue but Black Sea.
Odessa, I say it regrettably. Odessa, uncontrollably ashamedly. Odessa, I confess you're just a name to me, but oh, no, oh, Odessa. How I want it to be more, is it possible we could be more?
Hmmmmm.
Odessa...Odessa!
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
Odessa, I say it regrettably. Odessa, uncontrollably ashamedly. Odessa, I confess you're just a name to me, but oh, no, oh, Odessa. How I want it to be more, is it possible we could be more?
Look out here comes dusk, the curtain dawns on our lust. The boats pile out and the fog creeps in. It's a pale and daunting early evening, a look out on a deep blue but Black Sea.
Odessa, I say it regrettably. Odessa, uncontrollably ashamedly. Odessa, I confess you're just a name to me, but oh, no, oh, Odessa. How I want it to be more, is it possible we could be more?
Hmmmmm.
Odessa...Odessa!
Written by Marmaduke Dando Hutchings
Sunday 7 September 2008
Thrashing a stone to no avail
Conversation in London always seems to be about communicating essential information, or joking around whilst drinking copious amounts of beer. Nothing wrong in any of that of course, but it's so rare to have a prolonged discussion about anything not so immediate. Something you feel that has worth, and that you're further along in your thoughts because of that conversation.
Everyone lives in their separate apartments, and meet for a chosen period of time. The individual decides what his time ought to be spent on, and that couldn't possibly be 10 hours spent in the company of a close friend. For reasons of politeness, discomfort, lack of imagination. Forced and prolonged periods of time with company can lead to many insights.
As a young London bachelor, I find myself worshipping along with the rest without even noticing, the spirit of individuality. It's held up in reverence, comparable to nothing else, not even god, as we believe in nothing. We criticise every type of conformity, and yet fail to see how individuality is just as much a cult. We follow it's doctrine just as the "ignorant" we criticise follow theirs, without question, blind faith. And does it lead to happiness and purpose? At times perhaps, but more importantly, it leads to rot like this being written.
Everyone lives in their separate apartments, and meet for a chosen period of time. The individual decides what his time ought to be spent on, and that couldn't possibly be 10 hours spent in the company of a close friend. For reasons of politeness, discomfort, lack of imagination. Forced and prolonged periods of time with company can lead to many insights.
As a young London bachelor, I find myself worshipping along with the rest without even noticing, the spirit of individuality. It's held up in reverence, comparable to nothing else, not even god, as we believe in nothing. We criticise every type of conformity, and yet fail to see how individuality is just as much a cult. We follow it's doctrine just as the "ignorant" we criticise follow theirs, without question, blind faith. And does it lead to happiness and purpose? At times perhaps, but more importantly, it leads to rot like this being written.
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