Sounds...

I'm just a listener a passenger to Nirvana,

As my feet walk halls on souls made in China. 

Nevermind the specifics just entertain us, 

My Verve always has a "Lucky Man" ready 2 blame us.

There's always been something in the way,

N I hope Lucifer guesses the nature of his game.

It's a Babyshambles of a Shotters Nation, 

Pale white girls queuing outside disused power stations. 

So just come as you are whether a friend or an enemy,

I swear I don't have a gun just sat ready under my knee.

Coz I'm just an outcast and n anarchist,

I've never been just like the other kids.

So try 2 cut my legs off like King Kunta,

Just don't say I share bars like a prisoned punta.

N Fuck Forever if you don't mind,

Its all one n the same n my eyes R not blind.

My ears are bleeding sound like the creep I am,

A man in a can, imprisoned roasting like ham.

But I'm so happy coz today I've finally found my friends,

They're in my head so I'm on a path 2 a lithium end. 

I just playback the sounds that always deliver me,

A quiet sense of meaning in a world that will never be.

A place I can truly share my feelings,

So I'm just a sucker 4 drips of sound 2 give me some meaning. 

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid, Nirvana, Babyshambles, Verve and others..

Scumbag......

It's a world of mad sensory silence,

My head is full of memories of scraps n violence,

Come on I ask "Whose got a blade"?

"Why?" Well, I've got plenty of numbers to shave.

I'll always be quick n very close up,

Silent and deadly, like a hot shot dose up.

Why wud u pay 2 C me in a cage?

The whole world is my story's mad stage.

I never did kill a man for his giro today,

I waited a whole month n took a whole company's pay.

Black n blue my eyes still shine thru,

However, what I picture I can't even describe 2 u.

I got many wounds, many too deep,

Picking dead flesh out always sends me to sleep.

I reckon I'm just a low-down scumbag,

Ready to shake ur hand before robbing ur shot bags.

Postcode blacks always come down from town,

Think they can rule till we run them all down.

Clawhammer to the jaw n someone takes them gold teeth,

Cars being rammed n runners being tortured as they carry out St beef.

It can be a whole world of terror n fear out there,

N it's all daily news that your local paper will never ever hear.

They fight in the dark, taking alleys one by one,

But the really sad thing is that they think it's all good fun.

2022 - All Rights Reserved Robert Reid

Shopping

Running, running n alley shotting, 

Got a fiend on ur back it's one stop shopping.

Want some food I'll deliver to you,

Send me your postcode I'll be there in 2.

You want some dark, your bird looks smooth,

Have some free white I'll be her 2nd best friend soon.

I got money n rings n blowers n ching,

And an anal cavity that can stash an ounce of ting.

Another 6 o'clock knock n the front doors a flop,

But if they don't find suss I aint goin to their shop.

I got a webcam front door with an eagles eye,

A screen on the wall, that cops always ask why?

Coz tenancy is a loose term to me,

Get thrown from one I'll be a cuckoo in three.

Offer them some white n watch em suck that pipe,

Make em shot 4 me as I play Xbox all night.

Counting the notes as I hold my shank close,

Never know whose going 2 steam the pad n try 2 break my nose.

It's a life full of dealing death out cheap for bank,

N I tell myself I've been forced 2 this coz my life's been wank.

You can all get together to gloat, shout, drill n accuse,

But I'd like to see u try to do 925 after a life of social abuse.

So just read ur Daily Mail n keep giving ur kids pocket money,

Coz it's the rich white flush who always come shopping to me.

© 2022 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid