bargain bin wine

living on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine 

down on the ground 

it’s hard, dark and cold 

the gold doesn’t shine 

pass the penthouse monuments 

to where the street beggars mine 

the cities clogged arteries  

where they’re 

living on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine 

street preacher coughs and splutters 

tis better to give your debt 

to whores on crack

than  give it to evangelicals 

to save your petri dish souls 

from the hangman’s sack

after you’ve subsisted 

on dysfunctional last suppers  

of toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine 

its cold ,dark and hard 

telling time living in the sundials shadow 

drawing up dreams from an oil well

riding a unicycle with a rusted chain

hardly gives a performing puppet 

a chance to be a real human 

while living on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine

seeing stitching scars  on zombies faces

from faith been sown across their eyes

politicians get society’s to trust fall

another generation will march to war

for peace or to save the world 

politicians will turn their crusades

politicians will turn their crusaders 

into an empty blood bath 

in Blood Baths  we raindog paddle 

subsisting on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine

find their lies chiseled on tombstones 

the hard ,dark and cold stone chips 

feeding the starving homeless pigeons 

in the park where they fornicating flock 

to their saviours monumental stone feet

to hear the politician sing honey songs 

for change in exchange for their ultimate sacrifices

battleships swarm to their sirens ROCK  

to find their hard earned change

just paid for another doomsday 

MUSICAL             INTERLUDE  

marooned on the rock 

where the song changes scales 

not the empty soulless notes 

the survivors  do come to learn 

while they’re leftovers subsisting 

on toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine

burnt toast and bargain bin wine 

©bg 2019

When the guns reported live

I played my broken ten guitars

Underneath

A dark cobweb star

Still hoping all will see a thousand stars

High up in a trees crow nest

Underneath

Clouds that promise thunder   

I played my broken ten guitars

Underneath

A dark cobweb  star

Still hoping all will see a thousand stars

 

He was born with arms made for hugging

But he exchanged them for cold metal arms  

Then he went out mad to do some slugging

And the world sore how hate speech harms

 

When the guns reported back

Hate hate hate hate

When the guns reported back

Hate hate hate hate

and children’s bodies piled up high

and children’s bodies piled up high

 

The bullets lead with no loving questions

to fifty children they gave the kiss of death

Don’t blame us for this one man’s aggressions

Say politicians with the same foul breath

 

As the guns reporting  back

Hate hate hate hate

as the guns reporting back

Hate hate hate hate

while children’s bodies pile up high

while children’s bodies pile up high

 

I still play my broken ten guitars

Underneath

A dark cobweb star

Still hoping all will see a thousand stars

High up in a trees crows nest

Underneath

Clouds that promise thunder   

I still play my ten broken guitars

Still hoping all will see a thousand stars

©bg 2019

 

Image result for gunman in christchurch photos

 

hey folks the ten guitars lyrics by Engelbert Humperdinck that i  refer to in my poem are  highlighted in green.