Dave Binyon

motherf*****

motherf***** Ooh, ah Mother should I build the wall? Mother should I run for President? Mother should I trust the government? Mother will they put me in the firing mine? Ooh ah, Is it just a waste of time? Hush now baby, baby, don't you cry. Mama's gonna make all your nightmares come true. Mama's gonna put all her fears into you. Mama's gonna keep you right here under her wing. She won't let you fly, but she might let you sing. Mama's gonna keep baby cozy and warm. Ooh baby, ooh baby, ooh baby, Of course mama's gonna help build the wall. from The Wall by Pink Floyd Should we blame the parents? Mother did it need to be so high? ...

no one's bothered

no one's bothered We range the view, we do Dead will fall, no one's bothered You’re trapped, me too Alienation, no one's bothered No one's bothered No one's bothered ...

norwegian blue

norwegian blue https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t70338JIPY0 norwegian blue -monty python When you are tired and shagged out following a prolonged squark ...

life at the top

life at the top life at the top You're at the top of the heap life at the top It didn't come cheap life at the top You're a real go-getter life at the top It can only get better ...

photo song

photo song Images melt into one and there are reflections and I don't know pictures from your heart I'm smiling ...

der osten ist rot

der osten ist rot Holger Czukay - Der Osten Ist Rot (the east is red) A car showroom in former East Berlin. ...

johanna's visions

johanna's visions Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet? We sit here stranded, though we're all doing our best to deny it And Louise holds a handful of rain, tempting you to defy it Lights flicker from the opposite loft In this room the heat pipes just cough The country music station plays soft But there's nothing really nothing to turn off Just Louise and her lover so entwined And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind. ...

no one knows better than the king

no one knows better than the king The world view from my window. No one knows better than the king Life's a filthy dirty game Very very hard to win ...

foodporn

foodporn https://www.slideshare.net/karenfewell/the-psychology-of-sharing-food-via-social-networks/7-TheWebPsych_DigitalBlonde_FoodPsych_Image_GBChefs Are people who paste food photos on social media sites mentally ill? ...

a good man is hard to find

a good man is hard to find I'll meet you under the clock at 11am My favourite colour is red ...

dreaming my dreams with you

dreaming my dreams with you Karla Black’s work is airy and weightless ...

nervous tic. motion of the head to the left

nervous tic. motion of the head to the left Overprescribed Under the mister We had survived to Turn on the History Channel And ask our esteemed panel Why are we alive? And here's how they replied You're what happens when two substances collide And by all accounts you really should have died Stretched out on a tarmac Six miles south of North Platte He can't stand to look back Sixteen tons of hazmat It's what goes undelivered Undelivered It's a nervous tic motion of the head to the left It's a nervous tic motion of the head to the left Of the what, of the head to the left So exercise yourselves to your bereft 'Cause it's a nervous tic motion of the head to the left of the, of the, to the Splayed out on a bath mat Six miles north of South Platte He just wants his life back What's in that paper nap sack It's what goes undelivered Undelivered It's a nervous tic motion of the head to the left A nervous tic motion of the head Head to the left It's a nervous tic motion of the, of the, to the Left It's a nervous tic motion of the head to the, of the, of the head of the head to the Over imbibed Under the mister Barely alive we cover the blisters in flannel Though the words we speak are banal Now one of them's a lie Now one of them's a lie You're what happens when two substances collide And by all accounts you really should have died ...

cheating, lying, stealing

cheating, lying, stealing Old St Paul's Church, Edinburgh ...

tenuousness

tenuousness First it wanes and then it waxes /   So procreate and pay your taxes --- Tenuousness by Andrew Bird Tenuous at best was all he had to say When pressed about the rest of it, the world that is From proto-Sanskrit Minoans to Porto-centric Lisboans Greek Cypriots and harbor sorts who hang around in ports a lot uh huh Here's where things start getting weird While chinless men will scratch their beards And to their minds a sharpened axe Is brushed upon the Uralic syntaxes Love of hate acts as an axis Love of hate acts as an axis First it wanes and then it waxes So procreate and pay your taxes Tenuousness, less seven comes to three Them, you, us plus eleven Thank the heavens for their elasticity And as for those who live and die for astronomy When coprophagia was writ Know when to stand or when to sit Can't stand to stand, can't stand to sit And who would want to know this? Click, click, click Who wants to look upon this? Who wants to look upon this pray tell? Who wants to look upon this? Who wants to look upon this pray tell, pray tell? Tenuousness, less seven comes to three Them, you, us plus eleven comes just shy of infinity And as for those who live and die from numerology click, click, click ...

she eats flies

she eats flies A photorealism piece in the style of Richard Este - Street Naples ...

a lyke wake dirge

a lyke wake dirge Just resting for a while ...

lazy projector

lazy projector If memory serves us, then who owns the master How do we know who's projecting this reel And is it like gruel or like quick drying plaster Tell me how long til the paint starts to peel Is it like Pyramus or Apollo or an archer we don't know Though history repeats itself, and time's a crooked bow Come on tell us something we don't know Now who's the best boy and the casting director And the editor splicing your face from the scene It's all in the hands of a lazy projector That forgetting, embellishing, lying machine That forgetting, embellishing, lying machine They say all good things must come to an end Everyday the night must fall How it all came to this, I simply can't recall Too many cooks in the kitchen How the mighty must fall But I can't see the sense in us breaking up at all I can't see the sense in us breaking up at all I can't see the sense in us breaking up at all Breaking up at all And it's all in the hands of a lazy projector That forgetting, embellishing, lying machine ...

 

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