w a x

I'm the hippest kid in the big bad city
Got a way out voice and a pretty face
Shouldn't be workin' on this nitty-gritty
But I'm a cash strapped hero of the old rat race.
My Pop said overtime would get me out
But I'd rather be rapping with my homies and broads
Money or fun? I'm standing in doubt
Do I stay and work late or hit the bottle store?

* Work late
* Bottlestore

The office is dull so you think "What the hell,
I might as well have me some fun
The Boy from Accounts looks quite easy to pounce
But Naomi has the sexiest bum"

* Talk to the cute Boy from Accounts
* Flirt with Naomi from down the passage
* Work more

Accounts Boy's more than a pretty face
(Looks have deceived, you must confess)
He works all day and gets half drunk at night
Which is so quaintly Larkinesque

* Go for a beer
* Go to his place

The place you go to - dark and smokey,
All round it close-ribbed streets rise and fall
Do you join the bikers for a game of poker
Or buy the young lad a drink at the bar?

* Poker
* Bar

West century wide trees clash in surrounding starlessness above
This lamplit cave, where Jan turns his back and farts
Gobs at the grate, and hits the queen of hearts

* This game sucks, quit and head for the bar
* Double yer bets

Right on's what you're thinking, Accounts Boy and drinking
Make you feel so young and alive
The boy feels unfettered and it's jus' gettin' better
Then Naomi walks into the dive
You could try surprise her with vodka and tizer
But a menage-a-trois ain't her style

* Excuse yerself from both of them and go home
* Hide amongst the poker players with Accounts Boy
* Go and buy Naomi a drink

Hah! You clear 'em out with the ace of the black upsidedownheartwithastalk suit
In a game where nobody's been calling a spade a spade.

* Double yer bets
* Stick
* Quit and head for the bar

Account Boy's in wonder -"Not one single blunder! -
Please tell me the tricks of your trade"
Those 'tricks' are quite dicey but he asks you so nicely
You feel somewhat compelled to say:
"I feel like a jerk but my p.c. at work
Is equipped with microsoft games"

* That convinced Accounts Boy to bet all his cash on yer next game
* That convinced Accounts Boy that you two need a drink

It was only a small loss, but a bugle was blowing
I remember a biker performing an intricate dance
And the Boy from Accounts most gravely most quietly throwing
The cards from his hand, then "Goodbye, Au revoir"

* Bugger, ya lost him. Head on home
* Hey - Naomi's at the bar, offer her a drink

No point staying home tonight
It just ain't where the heart is
You're impatient to consume the night
So choose yer threads for starters

* Poloneck, tapered chinos, moccasins
* Collared shirt, polyester flares and boots
* Sweeney Agonistes V-neck T, JNCOs, pumas

Lust's set you going like a fat gold watch
Naomi wants a drink but at a different spot
Are ya gonna play it cool or ya gonna play it hot?

* Go with Naomi to Cafe LaLuna
* Mumble excuses about meeting yer girlfriend and head for the door

Hey, Naomi, I just wanted to say hello,
uh...

* I'm going to the kitchen can I get you a cola?
* Jees yer legs are hot, you really bowl me over

Eish! That stung

* Work on and pretend nothing happened
* Flirt with the Boy from Accounts
* Skulk home in embarrassment

With its Elvis-style crooner Cafe LaLuna
Looks like a porn set for poodles
So ya sipping martinis and taking it easy
And slowly discarding yer scruples
When amidst the whole game you spot an Old Flame
Walk in with a whole bunch of koegals

* Excuse yerself from Naomi and greet the Flame
* Pull into Naomi so the Flame don't see you

Old Flame (who's attractive) is certainly flattered
That you've asked her to drink at your booth
Between young Naomi and your ex-One-and-Only
You ain't minding your p's and q's
You're the dog with the bone and the seeds have been sewn -
Now to see if a cat fight ensues

* Flirt openly with Naomi
* Rekindle the Old Flame

Naoms cruises off with her head held aloft
Then Old Flame smiles (so alluring)
In an unusual fashion you find that your passion
For things of the past is returning

* Suggest a movie with the Flame
* Suggest a hip-hop-happening party with the Flame

Two hours of pranks with that jerk Tom Hanks
And Meg Trying's incessant clowning -
The movies you suffer to try and get lucky
Are slowly but surely amounting.
Once arrived at Flame's house you lurch for her mouth
When appears a huge figure frowning:
The daughter (or son?) of Attila the Hun
Who's offered the Old Flame a dowry...
"Goodbye then," you stutter from the depths of the gutter
As you lie there, not waving but drowning

* Restart

With a bat of her lash she says "I've gotta dash -
I'm already quite late for Mine Truly."
Such typical luck, you just should'a stuck
To Miss N while the going was groovy
You feel like a novice walking home past the office
Or the lead from some bad b-grade movie

* Walk on head down

The winter evening settles down
With smell of stakes in passageways
Eight o'clock
The burnt out ends of smokey days

* Home, James
* Home, Jamesons (via the bottlestore)

Packing your things you head for the wing
Of the building that leads to the road
And near to the door you spot on the floor
A very large bankie of dope
It's clearly the loot of the man with the broom
Who is sweeping the floor as he goes

* Stash the bankie and head home
* Return it to its rightful owner

"By my long grey beard and glittering eye
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?"
You show him his dope and he's clearly quite stoked
So he offers you some of his weed

* Accept, and follow the Ancient Janitor
* Refuse politely and mosey on home

Not that we're anti pleasure enhancing substances, but it just ain't too bright to puff
in a building riddled with smoke alarms. And didn't your mother tell you not to trust
bearded old men? A veritable melee of cops and bosses... you can fill in the rest.

* Restart

Oooh ooh aah ah
AAAARRGGGGHHHH In the midst of a romp on Account Boy's sofa you feel a tight
grip on the back of your neck. Perhaps you should ask people
if they have psychopathic boyfriends before you get quite so cozy.
You're pet food buddy.

* Restart

Then thinking that over -"Hey, I do have a lover,"
(How quickly these things slip the mind)
A call to her Nokia might knock some cash off of ya
But it's something you'll have to decide...

* Take the bus home
* Call her

The Old Flame gets up and leaves in a huff
And you whistle a mournful tune
Just as predicted Naomi's affected
And says with a voice made of dew
"You're looking quite lonely so why don't you join me
For a stroll to Oscar's Saloon?"

* Yeah, Baby!
* Mumble an excuse and walk back home past work

We caught the tread of dancing feet,
We loitered down the moonlit street
Then stepped inside the Old Saloon.
Inside above the din and fray
We heard the loud musicians play
Accompaniments to Miss Mae-Lou

* Suggest to Naomi you go to her place
* Excuse yerself from Naomi and buy Miss Mae Lou West a drink

Naomi's love nest all but makes you digress
To the state of a person who's crazed.
Admiring her body while she's making you coffee
You feel somewhat compelled to say:

* "So, pineapple chocolate or peach, honey?"
* Nothing. Just yawn.

"What are you thinking? Your manners are stinking - "
Naomi's outrageously cross
"It's nothing illicit I was talking of biscuits -"
(Silence as coffee hits crotch)

* Bah, humbug

"Tired then, sweetie?" asks Naomi obliquely
"Why don't we have some of this?"
She holds in her hand a powder-white gram
Of Everyman's Nemesis

* Sure, great!
* Um, mind if I call a cab (then, sotto voce, "to the dj Preludes party")

Two roads diverged in yer yellow 'hood
And sorry you could not travel both
And be one traveler long you stood
And looked down each as far you could
From a convenient observation post

* Follow the well trodden main road
* Wander down a certain half-deserted street

Everything's going groovy, especially you oh divine
concoction of Adonis and Aphrodite. It's not surprising
that you've got goddess Naomi in bed . What is surprising
is that your sexual prowess is somewhat substandard to say
the least. Suddenly everything has gone pear shaped and
Naomi is calling you a cab. Like what made you think you
could get sex and drugs and rock and roll?

* Bah!

Mae-Lou really thinks you're neat
You walk outside, you're hand in hand
And on the corner of the street
You find her voice a wee bit camp
Beneath the lighting of the lamps

* Who cares? Mae-Lou's a winner
* Erm, hey, where's Naomi?

Oh take me to the haven of you're bed was something
that you sadly said. Despite your ambiguous sexual persuasions
you wanted a real man. Not the cute Boy from Accounts in cheap
perfume masquerading as a country singer. And to think you ditched Naomi for this.

* Damnation

Oh, Naomi's still where ya left her, but trying
to win her over now is like gathering fuel in vacant
lots - she's found herself a new toy.

* Grrrrrrr

The route that you choose is a highway to booze
Sam's Liquor's - you wander on in
Do you grab the one litre sized pack of tequila
And head for the dude at the till?
Or recalling past trials you can head for the aisles
And seek an alternative thrill

* Tequila
* Wander the aisles

"Zis new special offer ees a real show stopper,"
Are the cashier's words as you pay
"Free promotional pack -I'll put in ze bag,
And zen off on your merry way."
His auspicious wink has caused you to think
That something's quite odd here, indeed -
For inside the bag the bottlestore man
Has slipped you a bankie of weed.

* Go home smiling
* Outrage! Waving it before him you threaten to call ze policeman
* Walk out, trash the dope and go home

Nobody heard them, the dead kid,
But still they lay moaning
"Grassing Kills", the warning should read
But they insist on blaming smoking

* Restart

Amongst the brandy and the gin
A gorgeous babe is pointed out
By a hollow man without a chin
Which leaves you standing in some doubt

* Leave the store and follow her
* Head straight for the tequila

You follow the girl into the park
Where she asks for a light for her reefer
(Today's version of the old 'dropped hankie')
It turns out she's a dealer --
She bats her eyes and starts to laugh
Then offers you a bankie.

* Buy some
* Decline and go home

Back home you shower and see that it's time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet
You pour yourself a drink and then decide

* To roll a joint from your newfound bag of weed
* To grab some clothes and hit the streets

Making the transaction
You spot the hunchback in the park,
A solitary mister
Who doubles as a nark.
You pull into the dealer babe to hide your heinous crimes
When who should walk into the park
But your sweetheart Valentine

* Do like Lloyd Cole and start a commotion
* I'll stay where it's safe, thanks, this is fun

You avoid the pork product but we're afraid that the verdict
Is guilty, you've been caught red-handed
Your girl gives you the boot which is preferable to
The gift that dealer babe granted:
She's run off with the stash as well as your cash
Whilst calling you names such as pervert
An unpleasant ordeal with naught to reveal
Except for a bad case of herpes

* Restart

The coast is clear tho' your conscience is frayed
But then Missy suggests her place for a blunt
And deciding it's going to be one of those days

* Wave to her, take the bankie and duck
* Say "Show me the way" and go in for the hunt

The violet hour at Missy's house
Your eyes are blotchy red
Your mind is a taxi, throbbing, waiting,
Then gorgeous little miss acidhead
hands to you an invitation
To a dinner with the living dead

* Yee ha, off to dinner with the decrepit bigwigs
* Erm, I gotta get back home

You go with Missy to the bigwig mansion
And midway through the garlic venison
Some old geezer asks your opinion
On how to make young kids like Tennyson

* Amuse them with your rappy prose
* Excuse yourself to go powder your nose

"Break, break, break
On the cold gray block, homey
And you bet that I ain't gonna stutter
The rhymes of the rapper in me"

"Beat, beat, beat
The neighbourhood boys as they play
But who give s a shit about Tennyson's wit
The old geezer is too out of date"

* Beat, beat, beat
* Break, break, break

Missy kicks your shin and calls you a toss
You realise you're wasted and this isn't fun
Then a geezer stands up and ain't it your luck -
He's your boss and her uncle in one

* Blast!

You fear that you've been a little bit brash
Since your rhyme put an end to the meal
But one of the geezers is Grandmaster Flash
Who's talking of signing a record deal
Missy has got quite a glint in her eye
And squeezes your hand with a smile
The evening is spread out against the sky
And you know you're the king of style.

* Kerchiiiing

You are no great prophet but that's no great matter
You've just seen the moment of your greatness flicker
This is the way the story ends
This is the way the story ends
This is the way the story ends
Not with a bang but a whimper

* Restart

Engaged. No, not you, the phone.
Hmmm, must be a reason why...

* It's fate, so head on home
* Dial again, what's one more try?

A tentative arrangement to meet her in the park
But if you find in an hour's time
You're standing in the dark
And all alone then just go home
For her absence will demark
Her prior plan to meet her dad
On which she has embarked.
While you're waiting on the bench
You're offered weed and coked up speed
By a gorgeous uber-wench...

* Oh what a thrill, I've time to kill",
* "Non, non," in dodgy French

The hour passes like a week
The park is lovely, dark and deep
And now no promises to keep
Just miles to go before you sleep
Just miles to go before you sleep

* "Well, I guess it's home alone once more"
* "I think I'll pass the liquor store"

The street followed like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
And lead you to a quaint bookstore. You paused,
And seeing it was a soft October night

* Walked once into the door, and stepped inside
* Peeked once in through the door, then continued in your stride

Forget the other masquerades that time resumes
While you're watching all the hands
That are turning dingy pages
In this book-crammed little room.

You see the wizened owner, his spectacles horn-rimmed
And slowly saunter over cos you're going to speak to him
You see the skinny-green eyed nymph, a model of perfection
Who holds a bunch of hyacinths, and head in her direction

* Owner
* Girl

She turns around and winks at you
"My god," you think,"She's hot"
And wonder what the hell to do
As she wanders out the shop
She stirs wild fury in your heart
"Oh, I'll be her Sappho, or her Homer"
But seeing she is so beautiful

* You'll have to win her over
* You'll just chat to the owner
* You'll stick with a Corona

The owner, though blind, throbbing between two lives,
Old man with wrinkled female breasts
Gives you a book called "Homers Quests"
With a head of Northern Lights inside

* Thank him and go home smiling
* Take him aside, hero that you are, and call the cops
* Go home and toss the weed in the trash outside

You go cowboy - take a stand
You feel like the Ranger de Lone
As you smooth your hair with automatic hand
And put a record on the gramophone
Then settling on the evenings plans
One quick dash of eau de cologne
Before you cruise to the saloon that's down the drag
The cheap drinks country music zone.

* Set off to Oscar's Saloon

As you're cruising down the street
You hear two voices call your name:
In a taxi, Naomi, looking effete
And behind that a Beetle, inside: Old Flame

* Taxi with Naomi from work
* Beetle with Old Flame

Inside the cab, Naomi sighs, then placing her hand upon your thigh:
"Let us take the air in a tobacco trance,
Admire monuments, discuss the late events
And if we tire of that too soon
We'll sit and drink at the Old Saloon."
Your youth is cruel, with no remorse
You smile at situations which you cannot see
So you whisper softly

* "Why, of course"
* Or tell the cabbie "To the Preludes Party"

Alone in the taxi you start to relax
As you head for your destination
And while you are driving the cabbie is whining
About his sexual frustration.
"Oh, enough of that crap, I'd much rather rap,
Why don't you try masturbation?"
Then the taxi man said, with a gun to your head,
"Rap kid, this just isn't your day son,
Rhyme me a word with orange," "Absurd!"
"...Or I'll give you a new occupation"

* Give the good man what he wants
* Impossible! Sod that

Your rhyme days have ended, the driver's offended
And he's takin' you home to his hovel
But don't give up hope, the dude is a dope
So he might set you free if you grovel
And fulfilling your tasks in a black leather mask
Might not be all that awful -
"My Life as the Gimp of a Cabdriver Pimp"
Has a wonderful ring for a novel

* Restart

At the Preludes Party the rap literati
Are milling around in hoards
You an' your peeps hang out on the street
And smoke a big blunt with some broads
Once ya stoned then it's time to get down inside
So ya join the queue at the door

* Keep yer head down and hand the bouncer yer cash
* Look the bouncer in the eye and hand him yer cash

Your poetic shirt, such a hit with the birds,
Yeah you look really good in those threads
Since you're looking so arty you remember a party
Which boasts quite incredible specs
Old MC Fly is the dude on the mic
And Preludes the dudes on the decks

* Phone your friends for a lift

They'll give you a ride in a few minutes time
Once they've finished their sushi and crab

* "If that's alright I'll see you in five"
* "Nah, I'll jus' hail me a cab"

Feeling quite stoned you head for the throne
And leave the millionaires
Then to your surprise in front of your eyes
As you slowly mount the stairs
A gorgeous sight all clad in white
Some sexy nurse's rear...

* Pinch her butt
* Swiftly onwards to the loo

Whether your vision or mental derision
This weed has made you bezerk
Things keep getting worse, that wasn't a nurse
Now you fell like a bit of a jerk
For what you've just done is accosted the bum
Of that chick Naomi from work.

* Fool

You're takin' a piss and jus' can't resist
Fiddling with bathroom appliances:
A bidet that sings "The wind in my wings" -
Seems only the kitschest suffices
For next to the throne disguised as a comb
Is one of Bell's ringing devices
The phone's to your ear when you suddenly hear
A collection of grumbling voices
From outside the door, should you hop this joint or
Force the moment to its crisis?

* Call a cab to take you to the DJ Preludes party
* Go and charm the geezers downstairs
* Hop out the window and follow the wind

The blunt that ya rolled is sure takin' its toll -
This bumbling slowly's a pleasure
But gather your wits and put on some kit
And make the night yours at your leisure
Some combat pants and that shirt of your gramps
With big black boots of leather
Or you Sweeney T-shirt is a good way to flirt
And you find it looks stylish together
With your baggy fit pants and your Nike Air Max:
You're faced with a clothing dilemma

* Sweeney T-shirt outfit
* Gramps shirt combo

Your poetic shirt, such a hit with the birds
You really look good in these threads
Since you're looking so arty you remember a party
Which boasts quite incredible specks
Old MC Fly is the dude on the mic
And Preludes the dude on the decks.
You hitch up a ride

* Do you head straight inside
* Or first hang on the block with yer friends?

Much to your horror you're outside your office
But hell knows how you got there
Since smoking that reefer yer minds been on leave
And that outfit you've chosen to wear
Is the one from this morning and now it is dawning
Perhaps you should be more aware
Your feet seem to go where you last wore your clothes
But right now you're too wasted to care.

* Now which way to go?

Inside the gig (which is mammothly big)
You feel just like Bugsy Malone
You're dancing for ages but then the beat changes
As Preludes hands it to DJ Ramone
Who upsets your feelings with a drum 'n bass remix
Of Kenny G's saxophone

(In the room the women come and go
Talking of MC Angelo)

* Dance
* Buy a drink

"This bouncer's a prick" are the thoughts that you think
Which sure beats the words that you said
He grunted like Thor as you walked through the door
So you asked him if he was inbred
The chop flexed his pecs and said "I suggest
You should leave or ya gonna be dead"

* Do as the good man says
* Fisticuffs

That wasn't too bright, now you've screwed up your night -
There's nowhere to go but Oscar's Saloon
But you're one happy homey when you spot Naomi
From the office who's going there too.

* To Oscar's, then...

What in your right mind made you think you could take on a dude
who's 7 foot high and 4 foot wide?

* Uuuuaaaaaaaaaaaahh

The music's so shite you've just gotta come right
Or tonight will just be a drag

* You could get quite far if you hang at the bar
(And besides you could bum a fag)
* Or go dance beside the dude with the smile
(Who looks like a mighty good shag)

Drink in hand you need a light,
But smokers are quite few tonight

* Ask the girl with "wasted" on her T-shirt
* Ask the girl with "waste land" on her T-shirt

The boy with the grin is luring you in
With his beautiful pea-green eyes
Feeling audacious you become quite loquacious -
"Voulez vous couchez avec moi?"
But his lover's a dude who finds this quite rude
And asks you to please step outside

* Apologise to the lover, steal his drink and look for a light
* Apologise to the lover and tell green eyes to meet at the bar
* Fisticuffs!

The girl in the T looks like Lillith on e
And her wit is as fine as her face
She says if you choose you can leave here and cruise
To a dinner at the bigwig estate

* "Sounds great"
* "Gotta go home," and head for the door

She lights your fag then takes a drag
Her looks, you find, are pleasing
But she wants to dance so now's your chance
To make or break your evening

* "She likes this crap? This girl ain't rap
I think that I'll be leaving"
* "Dance to this beat? Let's take a seat,
That sofa looks appealing"

You know its a screw up when guess who should show up
Naomi who's on the attack:
"This is obscene! She's only fifteen -
My sister, my sweet young lamb.
This is a disgrace!" She slaps your face
With the palms of both soiled hands

* Ouch

Green-eyes comes over without his lover
And sips on a root beer float
"I'm afraid that I'm booked, but if ya diggin' my looks -"
(He points at a slender wild oat)
That boy is my cuzzy, he's stylish and funny
Like a happening Truman Capote

* Accept his offer of the cousin
* Ask the girl next to you for a light
* Flirt with the girl with "waste land" on her t-shirt

The wannabe Truman's too good to be human
Those eyes - those hands - that mouth
He gives you a smile in that 'come to me' style
And says as he sips on his stout
"Breakfast at Tiffany's is to me no epiphany
But you can have Naked Lunch at my house..."

* Go with the Answered Prayer
* Other voices, other rooms... say goodbye and head for the exit

Taking his arm you cruise out the bar,
Hitch a ride through the 'burbs to his place
He looks in yer eyes and says "Come on inside,"
Whilst slipping his arm round yer waist.
Inside the apartment is recording equipment,
Turntable, mics, double bass
But these melt from your mind as you suddenly find
His lips are caressing your face
And it's all going groovy (although a bit schmoozy)
Until some people start calling his name:
It's a whole group of oldies who are just short of mouldy
Who stare at you two in disgrace.

* Aaaargh! Bolt
* "Yo, Listen up, I've seen the error of my ways And I ain't gonna
dis' ya or try to get shirty But it's no shame to have a dirty face
The shame comes when you be keeping it dirty

Like bolting's gonna be the answer?
Ya just lost Monsieur Le Perv, who incidentally
happens to be the godson of your boss who
incidentally happened to be one of the geezers
who incidentally happened to see your little performance.
Ain't Monday gonna be fun?

* Blast

Your immaculate spoken word rhyme style has earned
you the respect of a table full of crusties. And more importantly
of Truman and his sexy brother who just so happens to be one
a turntablists extraordinaire and the son of the dude who
runs Glass Harp recording studios. You've blown their headphones
kid, and you and Truman are, quite simply, * the blend.*

You ain't going nowhere looking like that, buster.
Who the hell's clothes are those anyway?

* Change yer clothes

"I guess that'll do" says the cabdriver who
Is miffed that you answered his question
"You were lucky this time" "But I'm the maestro of rhyme"
You reply with great indignation. But he's a fair old bastard who takes it for granted
That winner takes all applies
And so drives you to town, drops you off with your crowd
And charges you zip for the ride.

* Drum ('n' bass) rolls: hop out at the party

Another Ace! - another deadly blow!
Another mighty biker overthrown!
And you are left, or shall be left alone;
The last that dare to struggle with the foe...

* Ha ha hah

On the way out the door she drops on the floor
A colourful piece of card
It looks so intriguing it alters your breathing
And picking it up you remark
"It's quite rude to pry but this girl must be mine -"
This decision is gonna be hard.

* Read it
* Return it

Unfolding the paper you see today's date
And below that the name of a place
Where government rats and sad bureaucrats
Spend their weekdays screwing the state
There's also a sketch in yellow and red:
She's a graffiti girl planning to spray
A protest piece against the police
Or another such cause that's inane

* Holler her and express interest
* Head for the phone booth to alert the cops

"Time for you and time for me
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
How about we grab a cup of tea?"

* "Sure, I'd love to"
* "Um, I was on my way to the bottlestore"

"Oh please give that back, it's my means of attack
On the people who stifle my art
If I don't have my sketch my plans will be wrecked
Oh please,I appeal to your heart,
A protest graf artist must struggle regardless
To complete these arduous tasks"

* "D'ya need a hand?"
* "Take your paper, I'm going home"

Feeling aloof you head for the booth
To warn the cops of that chick
And while you are dialing you see her reciting
Your actions to a man with a stick
The man walks right over to where you are phoning
And swiftly he cuts the phone wires
Saying "To be an informer only makes someone smaller,
A bit more discretion's required..."

* Punch him
* Make up an excuse

Passing the time with that girl on your mind
Is a difficult task at best
You walk circles around the kitchen and lounge
While you wait to spray the town red.

* Fiddle with your hair in the bathroom
* Try reading a magazine

The bathroom shelves are littered with gels
(Your housemate's a coiffeur of fame)
Two tubes catch your eye, but which one to try
Since both have such fabulous names...

* Vader gel (may the force be with you)
* Froman gel (may the farce be with you)

"This gel really rocks" - You're admiring your locks
when the phone rings and gives you a fright
It's yer homies who're calling, they wanna go jolling
At a happening party tonight

* Go with them
* You'll wait for the girl

At last she arrives at the door of your dive
And you're set to graffiti her piece
On the route into town you notice around
Flyers for parties this week:
DJ Preludes and his fabulous crew
Are now playing near Prufrock Street
While Mae-Lou West's the celebrity guest
At a bar where the drinks are cheap.
While you're heading to protest you happen to notice
An inordinate swarm of police.

* Dodge her on the next corner and hail a taxi, to the dj preludes party
* Dodge her on the next corner and make your way to the saloon bar
* Stick with the girl

Taking tea the conversation slips
Among velleities and carefully caught regrets
Through attenuated tones of violence
And the silver smoke of cigarettes

* Tell her about yerself
* Ask her about herself

Some boys are bigger than others. The one that you've chosen to punch
is a prime example. The late final of the Times has headlines that read:
"Mystery attack in 'phone booth"
Pity ya never got to see it.

* Duh

(he laughed like an irresponsible foetus
His laughter was submarine and profound
Like the old man of the sea's)

Clearly you're lying but at least you weren't violent
The behemoth's a fair-minded dude
"Just give me the sketch you naff little wretch
Then get the hell outta this booth."

* Left to the bottlestore
* Home

Your bookshelf's quite bland, but we all understand
That the spoken word's far more your style
But still you must choose which mag to peruse
In order to pass the while

* National geographic
* What's on

(Under the lamplight, under the brush, your hair
Spread out into fiery points
Glowed into words, then was savagely still.)

Hey Afro Lover, that's quite a makeover
But you look like some disco freak
That girl's gonna cringe at the sight of your fringe
You've really messed up your physique.

* Put on a hat and wait for her
* Skinheads of the world unite and take over

Your plans are unyielding, you get to the building
On which you're planning to spray
Halfway through your task Miss Hyacinth remarks
"Quick, footsteps are heading this way"

* Pull into her to look inconspicuous
* Sprint

"I'm a protest graf artist who struggles regardless
Of efforts to put me down"
Tonight I have plans to spray something grand
On a government building in town.
If you like you can come, it could be quite fun
I'd be happy to have you around"

* Sure, I'd love to
* Afraid I have plans - and walk out and turn left
* Afraid I have plans - and walk out and turn right

"You're a self-obsessed git," says Miss Hyacinth
"I sadly mistook you for better,
If only I knew all you spoke of was you
Which is even more dull than the weather"
^^ She gets up and leaves ^^

* Go home alone

The contents are horrible, who cares about coral
Then you spot something you rate:
Some Tibetan Monks, these dudes are such hunks
"That's it, my head will be shaved"
On the way to the sink you hear the phone ring -
It's probably one of your mates.

* Sod these modern devices and go and shave
* Answer it

hmmm, dj Preludes party,
Mae-Lou West plays Oscar's Saloon (what a babe),
Stamp Collectors Monthly (no over sixteens),
Bingo at Church Hall (octogenarians only),
such a choice

* Go to Oscar's saloon
* dj Preludes party
* Wait for the girl

Just as ya thought, it's yer mates who are bored
J Alfred, Dusty and Russ:
"There's a party in town, ill shit's going down
And we want you to go there with us
And see Skinhead Dan (there goes your hair plan) -
Yer brother has surely got guts"

* Go with them
* Wait for the girl

You're bald as a coot and tho' ya look smooth
You're feeling au naturel
So the notion of spraying becomes quite depraved
But a walk, that'd sure go down swell.

* Walk

Forgetting your art you run through the dark
And a few minutes later you've managed
To escape from the danger of that unwanted stranger
But now Hyacinth Girl has vanished

* Look for her
* Walk around and look for a bar, ya need a drink after that

She does not resist your passionate kiss
Until the noises have suddenly changed
From the sounds of a shoe to a copper in blue
who's walking a dog on a chain
She shoves the spray cans right into your hands
And loudly she starts to complain
"I've just been assaulted by a vagrant spray artist,
Please help, this person's deranged"

* No, no, no...

An elusive nymph, Miss Hyacinth
Oh where oh where could she be
You can choose to search inside the old church
Or in the public lavatory

* Old church
* Public loos

You walk through the pews whilst looking for clues
As to where the girl could have gone
From pulpit to steeple there's no sign of people -
No luck, you'll have to move on.

* Carry on looking
* Go home

The public ablution's a strange institution
Where weirdo's hang out after dusk
Of the girl there's no sign, you're about to resign
When much to your disgust
A knife wielding dude shouts out from the loos:
"Your money, kid, or else your guts..."

* Fisticuffs
* Give him your cash

This hide-and-go-seek could take you all week
But there are so many spots you can choose
The stinky slump of the garbage dump
Or the depths of the public loos.

* Public loos
* Garbage dump

Men of that league are so easily pleased
He grunts and turns to walk out.
"That dude is a prick," then spotting a brick
"I really should give him a clout"

* Home to shower
* Klap him over the head as he leaves

Beneath plastic packets and fermenting carrots
You notice a cowering shape
"Yo Hyacinth Wench, you hid in this stench?
I've been searching all over the place"

* Walk her home
* Offer to help finish the piece
* Excuse yourself and go home

Such a harsh act of violence leaves you standing in silence
While the weirdo lies stunned on the floor
You pick up your money but you feel a bit funny
And slowly walk out through the door
"This part of town's creepy, so sod the graffiti
Or I'm gonna get bust by The Law"

* Home to shower

"Oh thank you sweet thing", (she gives you a wink
And a promising kiss on the cheek)
"But no time to play, let's be off to go spray
Before we attract more police."

* Erm, actually I gotta be getting home
* Go spray

Although the girl hones, while walking her home
You're quite overcome with desire
But she's a tough little kitten who hardly seems smitten
So be careful that you don't misfire.

* Kiss goodbye
* Sorry and thanks, goodbye...

You're spraying the piece which is near to completion
She asks softly, "Do you approve?"
Now despite great design you are quite inclined
To think that it could be improved.

* Yeah, it's rockin'. Lets cut.
* Suggest it needs some words

Yes, indeed goodbye.
That stung.

* Home to shower
* Home via the 24hr bottle store, take a left
* Home via the 24hr bottle store, take a right

At the door of her home she changes her tone
From coy to rather flirtatious
"Are you coming inside?" she asks with a smile
And and a voice that is rather salacious

* I'm outa here
* Go in

You suggest some ill lyrics which will stun all the cynics
Not to mention the girl at yer side
"You're a killer with words" says the Hyacinth bird
"I'm a rapper" you proudly reply
"Why didn't ya say? You should come meet my mates
Who are swinging by later tonight."

* Sure thing
* Sorry, I really should be going home.

Inside her house she becomes quite aroused
And gives you suggestive smiles
Her come to bed eyes are quite a surprise
But you ascribe it to womanly wiles

* Suggest a cup of tea
* Let's go to bed

Making tea downstairs you become quite aware
That the girl wants you in her bed
But a knock on the door stops anything more
From happening between you right then
The guests look like porn stars: It's the Infidelity All Stars-
A happening band that you like
With the turntable king who's as good as he's big:
The Beatsy Boy's Mixmaster Nike.

* Walk into the lounge, kissing Hyacinth Girl on the way
* Walk into the lounge

their arms and legs were knives and forks...
two curried lovers on a rice white sheet

* Well now that's done and I'm glad it's over (head home)
* How about a cuppa tea and a cigarette?

"That girl, man, she's mine" growls Mixmaster Nike
Whose anger is matched by his size
"If you like you can leave but I surely won't grieve
If you'd rather we took this outside..."

* I'm on my way home
* Fisticuffs

Whilst sipping ceylon and chatting along
To the musical maestro's you've met
An All Stars band member who's sexy and slender
Asks "Who are you anyway, kid?"

* "Just someone who wants a piece of the Hyacinth Girl"
* "Just a kid who wants to be a rapper and was helping the Hyacinth Girl with her piece"

"Hey we're looking to do some collaborative work with a
word whipping wannabe..." You impress them with yer ill
rhymes and they think you're it. They also reckon you and
Hyacinth Girl look really neat together, she gives you a wink
and so do they.
Kurtis Blow got the breaks, but you just got the break

* Right on

"Yes, let's give it a whirl," quoth Hyacinth Girl
"I'll swing by your spot a bit later"
With no indiscretion you give her directions
To your home and then hand her the paper.

* Home to wait