Say hello in there was not playing when the men in white coats coasted the surrounding area looking for slipped taxed disc cars..the wheel clamps bright yellow..the mass sticker plastered on wind screen..setting out details..on how to stop being a naughty boy.
The boy looked sheepish twisted his hands behind his back crossed his fingers,kicked his shoes on searching pebbles,felt the weight in his pants wondering if he could find time in the night to trip the light fantastic,cleaned each shoe on the back of his socks..lifting his head staring out towards the tax collectors wondering if there is any thing left to tax.The Beatles Revolver stole needle time in his head..I'm only sleeping..drift down stream...I'm the taxman crunched up the pace, the fortitude in scribbled crystal balls has evolved, there is nothing left to tax, air, water, land, speed, all lay now within the grip in the realms ungagged by ivory towers.
The young boy looks down once more on scuffed shoes,masturbation,is all that is left..what if..Could he afford it,could he even afford all those banana's,why had he not thought of it before..such luxury.Perhaps better than oranges,but then oranges they were fabulous,that tight wetness was free.But then so was masturbation until the angles sang in praise of good deeds placing dead hands smooth skin moonbeams in stilted cheese only forgotten in the spinning washing drum.
The young boy threw his pants into the steel drum..." Say hello in there " where will we be in 2010..far from Glasgow captured in camera.
Yes i think one more time tonight...the voices three.