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But what's it mean...

First Appeared in Burnt Toast#13, 1993

There was a darkness,
Like an old friend
It scratched and crawled up the wall.
Into my life, into my destiny
Into my desire.
It's the swing
The swing like a pendulum.
          The Swing

You want to feel a little warmth
A little mercy
You want to feel like this is real
But it's so cold this time of year
And everywhere you like to go is a reminder
          Baby Animals

I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire for victory, without the great fear of defeat, in a sickly atmosphere of tepid scepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less in that of your adversary.
          Heart of Darkness
          Joseph Conrad

You might be a king
or a little street sweeper
But sooner or later
you dance with the reaper
          Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey

You know that little girl next door, mamma
I believe her name was Betty Clark
Oh, don't tell me she's dead, momma
'Cause I just saw her in the park.
We were sitting on a bench, momma
Thinking up a game to play
Seems I was holding a wrench, momma
And then my mind just walked away.

You think I'm psycho, don't you momma?
I didn't mean to break your cup
You think I'm psycho, don't you momma?
Oh momma. Why don't you get up?
          by Leon Payne

I don't want to go out in the midnight -- scared.

I can't see much
No lights to show me
The streets from the shadows
No lights in the windows
I don't want to walk out in the cold
I'm scared
Without you. Running around without you.
          Without You

Planet Earth is blue
And there's nothing I can do
          Space Oddity
          David Bowie

All these houses
In a line
Saying hey good morning
So fine
Singing oh security
So good
Sticks and stones and tombs of burning wood
          Burning Wood
          James Reyne

See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Colder than the moon
It's been so long
Feel my blood enraged
It's just the fear of losing you
Don't you know my name?
You've been so long
And I've been putting out fire
With gasoline
          Cat People ("Putting out the Fire")
          David Bowie

Sometimes -- you're better off dead
There's a gun in your hand
And its pointed at your head
You think you're mad -- too unstable
Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables
In a restaurant, in a West End town
Call the police there's a madman around
Run him down, underground, to a dive bar
In a West End town
          West End Girls
          Pet Shop Boys

I had a friend
I heard she died
On the needle she was crucified
          Cheap Wine
          Cold Chisel

The principles of lust
Are easy to understand
Do what you feel -- feel until the end
The principles of lust
Are burned in your mind
Do what you want -- do it until you find
          The Principles of Lust

Talk hard
          Pump up the Volume

And nothing really rocks
And nothing really rolls
And nothing's ever worth the cost
          Bat out of Hell
          Meat Loaf

Gerard van Rysbergen:

The darkest dreams are the ones that come true
And are given away caught between me and you
          Darkest Dreams
          His Name is Alive

There's horror in my head
where the blanket has gone
From the throne in my castle
where I see the sun from
          Horror Head

Come stab it faster the thing that's inside me
That's what you're after keeping happy
          Lazy Day
          The Boo Radleys

But if I had your faith then
I could make it safe and clean
If only I was sure that my
head on the door was a dream
          Close to Me
          The Cure

My lips are moving if you touch my face
Did you hear my screams?
While we were sleeping I tried to say
Even in my dreams
My words get blown away
          Blown Away

I have seen eyes in the trees
I heard the devil howl
Got down on my knees and prayed
But I went back for more
My appetite is whet...

I get the feeling that I'm not alone
I get the feeling -- it's someone I don't know
But the fear carries all -- fear of the unknown
Fear takes its toll -- fear of the unknown
          Fear (of the unknown)
          Siouxie & the Banshees

Someone take these dreams away
And point me to another day
Back to the personalities
That stretch our true realities
And keep calling me
They keep calling me
          Dead Souls
          Joy Division

Sarah Groenewegen:

"I left the markets and wandered down to the Smoky Weather Club where the Black and Blue Minstrels were appearing in the Burnt Toast Cabaret Show."
          James Dibble, in Russell Guy's
          What's Rangoon to you is Grafton to me


Slasher flick, graveyard trip
Drive down the axe, fast and hard.
The blood was redder this time
Boy, did it spurt far
It didn't have the squish that I usually hear.

Everybody made lots of money
I read in Gorezone magazine
Centrefold posters of Jason and Freddy
Line my bedroom walls.
The psychiatrist says I'm legally sane
So the court laid me all the blame

I used to really dig that shower scene
Those violins really pierce my memory
I can hallucinate red going down my drain
Slasher fun, can't you take it?
Slow motion, rewind.
My friends, we rented everyone.

I've been in jail ten years or more
Gone are the visitors, the reporters of gore
I've become a writer
I'll escape through fiction
About a director and his fate.

The artists that build his picture
Actors, editors, musicians
Special effect's ultra realism
Producer's bottom and sequel dollar

They, like he, were to bust to see
Or they really didn't care of a splatter legacy
But after a time, like me
There came a time
Of haunting reflection
Negative celluloid creatures
Grown beyond
Their prison of plastic and silver grains.

I was curious about the real thing you know
Chainsaws, machetes
I've seen heads roll a thousand times
Cool analytical death appeal
Hallowe'en dress-up for real
I had the strength where the
Writer/director just speculate
And we cheaply exploited each other.

Except I was only thirteen
Except I was only thirteen

My fictional director penance as censor of his art
But unlike he, nothing can set me free
I'm here for life writing for my life, all life
We make films on paper together.

No death No death No death
          No Death


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