DISCE VEL DISCEDE

…let me introduce myself

I’m known by many names…

Some of them unprintable

and some of them just strange?

 

Some call me a chastifier

even Brimstone and Fire

but I’m not a chattifier

I’m no righteous liar

I’m a loose wire

I’m a toaster

I’m not a boaster (but)

I built Nelson’s Column

I built the Coliseum

I burn down museum

I burn down diesel engine

I cool down fire engine

I rough up petrol head

I cough up Red Red Red

I cough cough car fume

I cough cough per fume

I less less consume

I more more confuse

 

as the poor get fleeced by quick dealers

and the sick get access to less Healers

and the healers run to heal the wealthy

and redesign the breasts of the healthy

 

So..I just have to say

I’m just a toaster

a talking toaster

Would you like it well done?

shall I singe it wi’ ma tung?

Aye yi herd me right

hiv yi goat a light?

did somewan mention “fire next time”

av goat sum wurk to do

an it isnae mine….

My Mother is crying

I’ve come from her lungs

To speak for my children

To speak for my Ancestors

To work for my Mother

Who gave birth to your Kings

Who in turn stole your birthright

Who sold your children into slavery

Who frighten your Elders into prison

Who separate the Families

Who separate the Tribes

Who separate the vibes

Who separate the races

Who separate the species

Who separate the all

Who operate for none

Who benefit for some

Who laugh up their sleeve

Who invent up disease

Who plan how to kill

and sell you a thrill

and build a tread-mill

and a carrot and stick

to prove to your master

that you realy are sick

get a note from your doktor

to exempt you the next bit

 

better get a fireproof suit

Walk in the desert and search for a root

My people are waiting…..

while you count your loot

My people are waiting….

for you to leave the Garden

My people are waiting….

to see what you leave

My people are waiting

to count the damage done

My people are ready..

just leave when you done

My people are forgiving

and shall always be

forever healing the damage that you do

 

Though you couldn’t understand us

You judged us and you burnt us

You ethnically cleansed us

You passed acts of god to kill us

You persecuted my sister

You religious twister

You have twisted your minds

Against all Womankind

You exhalt her into bondage

and sell her brother the keys

so she can be sold by commodity brokers

and decisions about her child bearing rights

are made by men in wigs

 

 

So … I just haffi say

I a toasta

a talking toaster

in a strange land

Where baby girls are less valued

than their sterile brothers

Where shaving the body is desirable

Where cutting dogs tails is fashionable

Where plants can be criminal

Where altered states are not spiritual

Where abuse is habitual

the people turn gullible

and get re-educated by cathode ray nipple

and internet mice

Whilst taking a slice

from everyones pie

And selling the Sky

to people who believe

that it can be “owned”

where the air is policed

and water is metered

and profits are made

from selling the rain

that began its cycle

in the consumers bladder

and fell from the sky

that smells like a stye

and enters your lungs

and touches everyone

 

 

even the King in his castle

in the thin mountain air

can see fires in the forest

and the smoke stings his eyes

as down in the valley

the riot-cops scream

and vagrants dream

of lives that are better

but not by much

as strangers drop coins

that they use as a crutch

to maintain their importance

of being no-one important

to the rules of the game

by paying the balance

then Justice is Served

in the clink of metal tokens

that fall into a Hat

at a place called Redemption

in a land called accusation

of constant reminders to toe the line

 

 

 

 

So remember, give willingly, but not too much

if the beggar leaves then you’ll have his pitch

and a chance to get rich

on wisdom and advice

and..”do you know what I think?”

“you’ll spend it on drink..!”

“you’ll spend it on drugs!”

 

“honest I won’t mister…

      I’ll spend it on waste

           I’ll get a piece of metal

                   and dig a hole in my Mothers face

Big enough to swallow

all the metal discs

that you toss into my hat”

 

So you see my scam at last

I simply throw them back

I toss them in the ocean

I throw them to the breeze

I burn your paper promises

I set the carbon free

the carbon that is all of us

the root of every tree

the heart of every seed

the light in every leaf

the light that I am harvesting

the seed that I am storing

getting ready for the fall…

 

Of your own preconceptions

Of how its meant to be

Of how its going to be

Of how its always been

Of the reality of Nature

Of the perception of reality

of a dog in every manger

and a wolf dressed as a lamb

of drugged controlled children

in schools of hypocrisy

Where they learn how to want

and they learn to compete

and go through the maze

and get a pat on the head

and wake up Dead

in the middle of a Mall

having heard nothing at all

except a bit of a rant

from a beggar itinerant

just a man near the edge

living on veg

with a smile on his lips

and love in his heart

and a Dog at his feet

just working the street

about his belief…

that perception is reality