The late edition

Something new, on the non-sensible of thoughts 
I demand a change from the council of  elders  
I make my case to be heard, hear, hear, subject to abstract 


The saying goes "mind you I made it up"
The saying goes, as goes the saying
In the school of thought "mind you I made it up"


The saying goes, that a drunk is never regretful
Of the drinking "why ever for"
It is the hungover he hates


And if the liver could be put out of harms way
You know, that is just a thought to be considered
More cheers in Munich a' breaking beer jugs in oktoberfest 


This is about the Christmas tree, "a change I request"
Though I am inclined, contracted by prerogative
To confuse you the reader for a bit


As readers of digest, why should I serve you
With digested meals, like with a silver spoon 
When you still have thoughts of denture to chew with 


The Christmas tree, I protest and make a case
Should stay standing until the end of January
Hear, hear, honourable members of non elected


But with seats in each house, sat on sofa
Where the Christmas tree is to spend
These days of merry, in front of the fire place


You see, the Christmas tree is a tree of memory
A friend once said to me, I have decorations on my tree
Gifts I got from friends and family no longer here


My tree is a tree of memory recall 
To celebrate joys of those I no longer see
A gift from my gran, a friend, my mother, a gift here from you


Why pack the Christmas tree off so quick
And box it off so fast, to hide 
Away, away to the attic it goes "I demand a change here"


I protest for the tree of memory with dangles of gift 
Hear, hear the Christmas tree, I call to stand, hear hear 
Let me live with this memory a bit longer 

PS: not to worry if it makes no sense 
it was never meant to 

Bananadrama a story of sort

I always wandered, pondered, and I asked, why the banana 

Should be surged upon to have a bad name, a bad name 

Walk, walk, slip, flip, fall that is it, it has a bad name 

Never mind, he who chooses, not to look down 

Did not look. Stop, look, listen, you did not look 

Oh, gosh that’s it, he has a bad name 

And there we go, you took your eyes off the ball  

There we have it, there he does it  

A bad name, Keyser Soze 

So again and again, I will get Poirot 

To set the record straight, I mean why

Why blame the banana, t' usual suspect 

Where placed a crime scene notice on the post 

With all due respect "Sir!"

The banana, the banana? 

You see legend has it, as the story goes

Two men came into contact with

The banana, the banana

Well, a lot more than two and a monkey 

If you choose to be picky, add Super Mario 

I mean why be picky it’s just a story

So two it is, two men 

I say, two it is, sue me, boo hoo 

In this story just t' two, I am t' story teller, telling  

Anyway two men came into contact

With the banana, which found itself

At the crime scene, chalked around for evidence  

The story goes... one unplugged the banana 

So yellow, ripe and tempting
That's why, not I say, dare I say

A woman, "naughty minds 
You lot, naughty minds" 
He pushed it down his throat

And in the excitement he dropped

The yellow peel down on the road in trivial thoughts 

The story goes, as I was saying

The second man walked by

In dream state, up in the air, clouds daydream

He stepped on the banana and went flying off

A mystery that holds, the accused banana

Why is the banana to be blamed

The banana, the banana

I always wondered why the banana

Should have so significant a bad name

I would get Poirot to investigate this strange


This strange, this strange 
Bananarama, drama 
A story of sort 

Golden goose

As I was lying in bed lamenting 
I realized my fortune was overdue 
And where my roots do lie  


I am a Cambridge college grad or something close 
Privately educated, in the seminars of the halls 
A green card for life, a citizen of Rome  


That means if mother hen, was to be named 
I came from the golden goose 
That laid me a golden egg 


I am a golden egg 
The rain tried washing off my sparkle 
And it would have worked into environs  


If it was that my colour code was painted on  
I am a golden egg, from the golden goose 
That means my sparkle runs deep 


Deeper than the rain can fade. 
Yet sometimes on the outside I fade 
And blend into an environment obscure  


Which tries to indoctrinate me 
Of where I belong, false from my roots 
For I blend into the state I find myself 


How are they, on observers lookout to know otherwise 
To challenge their misconception against  weathering 
Pushing on borders of  change, of situations enlisted now 


That I am a Harvard college grad or something close 
A golden egg from the golden goose , where my roots lie 
T' walks the halls of greatness t' laid me a golden egg 


A scratch came to discredit fade of economic weathered 
And suddenly I was with sparkle, like never before  
Underneath the fade, it had always been there with pride 


Yes I am an Oxford college grad or something close 
A golden egg from the golden goose 
That laid me a golden egg 

How birds should fly

If I ever, should I ever, in a storm drawn  
Find myself  at a cross road, rivers flow  
I see arrows pointed in branches broken as it's game over 


To be announced, towel thrown in, houses wrecked  
Pronounced dead, on circumstance, its shoreline 
Debris washed ashore, is it game over, again?


And after the storm calm, have a few good things
Said about me in last rite, he was a good man  
Nobody is allowed loud  to speak bad of me 


An earth place dug, this I can call my plot 
Truly my plot for eternity rest 
Sign posted with estate of similar 


But I ain't ready yet in obituary 
For my name to be pronounced with sorrow 
Not this day, I ain't ready yet, no


Not now yet, so pull your shot on front line  
Aim tight make sure it's bonseye 
Then watch matrix Neo, avoid Mr Anderson 


Slow motion sees arrows swing by  
And the phoenix would rise to show 
How birds should fly 

How birds should fly

Spaceship Touch Down

I had my last supper of 2011 
Breakfast came in 2012 new 
This was a journey of odyssey 


I am a travelling man 
Travelling through time 
On a spaceship, a long while 


I am a spaceman in space suit  
Calling out on mission control 
Spacestation to mission control  


We have touch down, landing site  
Through time wormhole to new lands 
Touch down we have, on time travels 


Turbulence came like 
A dance with the bull 
A run in Pamplona from calenders of before 


But we have touch down, touch down we have 
Spaceman calling out to mission control 
We have touch down on new lands in new times