padded with power here they come international loan sharks backed by the guns of market hungry military profiteers whose word is a swamp and whose brow is smeared with the blood of the poor who rob life of its quality who render rage a necessity by turning countries into labour camps modern slavers in drag as champions of freedom sinister cynical instrument who makes the gun into a sacrament -- the only response to the deification of tyranny by so-called "developed" nations' idolatry of ideology north south east west kill the best and buy the rest it's just spend a buck to make a buck you don't really give a flying fuck about the people in misery IMF dirty MF takes away everything it can get always making certain that there's one thing left keep them on the hook with insupportable debt see the paid-off local bottom feeders passing themselves off as leaders kiss the ladies shake hands with the fellows open for business like a cheap bordello and they call it democracy and they call it democracy and they call it democracy and they call it democracy see the loaded eyes of the children too trying to make the best of it the way kids do one day you're going to rise from your habitual feast to find yourself staring down the throat of the beast they call the revolution IMF dirty MF takes away everything it can get always making certain that there's one thing left keep them on the hook with insupportable debt (TORONTO, 11/85)
over the slow slide of continents over the salt pans pipelines masts and pavilions shimmering crescent moon recedes into working dawn -- lone crow against pallid sky single plume of white smoke on yellow speckled plain yellowing leaves sparkle in cold breeze -- wave patterns among wave patterns particles disperse and rejoin dissolve and reform like the lining of a womb still the cold of your absence blows from the silent tv the parking lot the balcony with clothes waving good-bye/hello in the rising day you keep fading away don't i know that you're always around i can reach you if i try Lily of the Midnight Sky solders of sunrise -- shooting into a forest of flowers slow motion petals float into pink crimson white grow wings flutter into mountainous distance flutter like a stadium full of applauding hands i raise a fist to the marauding sun that has hidden you away i'm the rag in a bottle of gasoline longing to ignite ich will alles all of you -- shining on the panther skin of night mirrored in a black lake in a night that glistens like blood on gold nobody else could be you if only i could see you i should be able to touch you somehow i can reach you if i try Lily of the Midnight Sky while you look from on high spare a smile as i put on my dog mask and howl for you i can reach you if i try Lily of the Midnight Sky (BOULDER, 11/11/84)
stand on a bridge before the cavern of night
darkness alive with possibility
nose to this wind full of twinkling lights
trying to catch the scent of what's coming to be (in this...)
world of wonders...
somewhere a saxophone slides through changes
like a wet pipe dripping down my neck
gives me a chill -- sounds like danger
but i can't stop moving till i cross this sector (of this...)
world of wonders...
there's a rainbow shining in a bead of spittle
falling diamonds in rattling rain
light flexed on moving muscle
i stand here dazzled with my heart in flames (at this...)
world of wonders...
moment of peace like brief arctic bloom
red/gold ripple of the sun going down
line of black hills makes my bed
sky full of love pulled over my head
world of wonders...
(TORONTO, 6/85)
dull twilight spits hesitant sulphur rain
sky been down around our ears for weeks
only once -- gap-glimpsed moon over that anal-retentive border wall
as we laughed through some midnight checkpoint under yellow urban cloud
weeks of frantic motion -- petrol veins of europe pumping
through scratchy acid-bitten transparent winter trees
through brownish haze that makes a ghost of the horizon
i'm rushing after some ever-receding destination
berlin tonight
table-dancing in black tights
waving a silver crutch in the blue lights
shapechanging over glass
on the front line of the last gasp
green shoots of winter wheat and patches of snow
russian walks dog in saxon field
from the top of a solitary tree like the one on the flag of lebanon
unblinking eye of hawk follows traffic on the autobahn
tank convoy winds down smokestack valley
pround chemical pennants wave against the sky
turret gunner laughs when i throw up my hands
i'm all glasses and grin to him under my "commie" fur hat
berlin tonight
table-dancing in black tights
waving a silver crutch in the blue lights
shapechanging over glass
on the front line of the last gasp
(2 GERMANIES, 2/85)
you've got covert action
prejudice to extremes
you've got primitive cunning
and high tech means
you've got eyes everywhere
but people see through you
you've got good manipulators
got your store of dupes
you've got the idiot clamour
of your lobby groups
you like to play on fears
but people see through you
you've got instant communication
instant data tabulation
you got the forces of occupation
but you don't get capitulation
cause people see through you
you've got the sounding brass
you've got the triumph of the will
you do what you want to
and we pay the bills
you hype the need for sacrifice
but people see through you
you've got anti-matter language
contrived to conceal
you've been lying so long
you don't know what's real
you're a figment of your own imagination
and people see through you
you've got lip service tributaries
you've got death fetish mercenaries
you hold the tickets to the cemetaries
you're BIG and BAD and SCARY
but people see through you
(BRIDGENORTH, 25/8/85)
rays of the moon make magic in the streets of the city all the people get strange but their faces look so pretty the walking graffiti; survivalist bums; even the secret police shout that you're the one see how i miss you every psychopath gets his own magazine these days i just read about how i can kill in a hundred ways but i don't want to cause anybody pain i only want to hold you in my arms again see how i miss you i watch this woman in a tight sequined lizard dress -- tosses her scarlet hair like a sly caress she got midnight voice like some beckoning saint she got something special but you she ain't see how i miss you (TORONTO, 11/85)
something moves in the still dark hours sunday in a shanty town eyelids open two by two but not a single light goes on tension builds as the only sound is the quiet clash of metal and boots and now and then an order barked at the bullies in the drab green suits military thugs with their dogs and clubs spreading through the poblacion hunting whoever still has a voice sure that everyone will run they come in strong but it's not that long before they know it's not so easy to leave to keep a million homeless down takes more than a strong arm up your sleeve at the crack of dawn the first door goes down snapped off a makeshift frame in a matter of minutes the first rock flies barricades burst into flame first mass rings through smoke and gas day flowers out of the night creatures of the dark in disarray fall before the morning light bells of rage -- bells of hope as the 10 year night wears down sisters and brothers are coming home to see the Santiago dawn Santiago sunrise see them marching home see them rising like grass through cement in the Santiago dawn i got a dream and i'm not alone darkness dead and gone all the people marching home kissing the rush of dawn Santiago sunrise see them marching home see them rising like grass through cement in the Santiago dawn (SANTIAGO, 12/83)
praying mantis on screen canoes prowl reef in early morning sun as it flashes on the rhythmic fall of weed cutter's cutlass blade everybody's got something to sell besides the obvious dollars and dope aloe rub, starfish, vegetable patties, braid your hair miss and bush doctor cures sudden angry eruption between aloe peddler and man with property to protect muscular security guard with truncheon of twisted wire "kiss my blood clot" she hisses and they're enemies for life in the beach front bar they're playing reggae versions of Jim Reeves' Greatest Hits the waitress sings along, eyes focused dreamily on that sentimental world and there's DANCING in PARADISE... blue green ship in turquoise bay swollen bauxite-red river rushing stream rising from feathered bamboo hills tracks once paved now falling away into deep lush valleys and the farmed-out road contracts pass through so many hands the print erodes with the weather-worn blacktop and the jungle's always trying to reclaim the right of way and the mangoes cacao turmeric goats soursop mushrooms cane plantains limes horses crayfish long-legged birds donkeys curved horns of cattle above dense grass ganja sensitive plant ackee and some thorn whose prick brings lockjaw and tires torn by sharp yellow rocks -- young girl stares pensively from dark door in pale blue wall Big About and friends at their crossroads bar with its dirt corral for dancing drink soursop juice all day long in quest of the perpetual stiff bamboo and there's DANCING in PARADISE... Biggy Dread gunned down by police at Big Bridge March 16 riding a mule cart to Sav-la-Mar pulled out a cutlass and they had to shoot that's what they say something tells me they like to shoot something in the eyes of the ones at the road block where they searched the car and tried to get us to confess to whatever... there's truncheons and gas down in Harbour St. -- typical response where life isn't so sweet and somebody gets desperate enough to say so -- price of fish price of flour going up up up almost by the hour and they throw away money on spectacular shows to show the world the right likes the right music and the Prime Minister sucks ice cream in the company of a happy band of children while a naked man, sores on his neck, lies for days in Washington Blvd. gnawing chicken bones and the Chamber of Commerce thinks there's too much crime and there's a kung fu movie in every town and there's DANCING in PARADISE... (JAMAICA, EASTER 85)
sweet wind blowing off the bay
sweeping the heat of the day away
making the leaves of the palm trees sway
down here tonight everything's okay
net's coming in and the anchor's down
hour of darkness comes around
stars dust the sky and the lights go on
soon tonight will be filled with song
pans gonna play and the fire burn bright
talking drums say everything's all right
beating of the sea sends a message
to the far starlight
"we're doing okay down here tonight"
the end of the road's still far away
but the travelling's better by the light of day
this hour of darkness is the time to dance
lay down your burdens -- give the beat a chance
pans gonna play and the fire burn bright
talking drums say everything's all right
beating of the sea sends a message
to the far starlight
"we're doing okay down here tonight"
(TOBAGO, 1/84)