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  . .   . . .    . .    . .    . .
 .   .   .   .  .   .  .   .  .   .             "Poems of Thought"
 .   .   .   .  .   .  .   .  .   .
  . . .  .   .   . . .  . . .  . . .               by Schoolboy


  . . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 "WASTE"

 I think you've seen enough,
 Haven't you stolen enough?
 You live in Tracksuit Hell,
 You steal cash from your mom as well,
 Your parents always give you a whack,
 But you always hit them back,

 You're a waste of space

 You throw stuff onto railway tracks,
 And threaten people who answer back,
 You take your fix of Ecstacy,
 You take it 'cause it makes you feel free,
 And if you can't afford the pill,
 You drink cheap beer until you're ill,
 
 You're a waste of space

 You're pregnant that's why you fell unwell,
 But you're so dumb you can't even tell,
 People don't ask, "who is the dad",
 'Cause you can't count the boys you've had,
 Your kids have names like Dean and Ann-Marie,
 And pierce their ears before they can speak,

 You're a waste of space

 You waste your life you waste your time,
 You take our taxes and that's a crime,
 You beat up blacks and write on walls,
 Just to prove you've got some balls,
 You wear "gold" jewellry and signet rings,
 You think you rule the streets like kings,
 
 But,
 You're a waste of space.

 . . . . .


 "LOVE"

 Yes, love can wait.
 But so can a stain on your shirt. 
 So what are you waiting for?
 
 . . . . .


 "THE BAND"

 The music press say you're a star,
 But no-one else knows who you are,
 So take the hint,
 
 You think it's cool to release a 7",
 You boast about the riffs you pinch,
 So someone sues,
 
 You dress yourselves in mock retro gear,
 But in the 60's is where your IQ's are,
 You love The beatles, The Kinks and The Cream,
 But in the 60's is where your singles reach,

 You're on the TV 3 or 4 times,
 But that meant 3 or 4 mimes,
 'Cause you were pissed,
 
 You slag your friends off 'cause they're not rich,
 You cast them off like you'd scratch an itch,
 Now you're alone,
 
 You dress yourselves in mock retro gear,
 But in the 60's is where your IQ's are,
 You love The beatles, The Kinks and The Cream,
 But in the 60's is where your singles reach,

 Things go downhill all the way,
 You walk down the street and people say,
 "Who are they?"

 So one idea fills you heads,
 You hang yourselves until you're cred,
 You're Number 1

 . . . . .


 "LUST AND FEAR"

 The lights are red and so bright,
 Even at midday they make it seem like night,
 The clouds above seep into your soul,
 You feel your thoughts turn as black as coal,
 
 The backlit pictures look like horny ghosts,
 They're as false as the nightclub hosts,
 And the clouds above seep into your soul,
 You feel your thoughts turn as black as coal,

 It's the underbelly of human life,
 Where the middle-class man cheats on his wife,
 There's no joy, just lust and fear,
 All the men's faces say don't come near,

 The streets are narrow and all the same,
 Everyone who works there has a made-up name,
 Their lives don't seem to be their own,
 They don't know what they'll do once their money's blown,

 There's no joy, just lust and fear.
 
 . . . . . 


 "PROVE ME WRONG"

 Lightning is God taking photos of Earth,
 
 We are all colourblind, it's the "colourblind" people who can see properly,

 All dead people are happy,

 The Matrix was a documentary,

 That religious leader in Waco WAS Jesus Christ,

 I'm watching you now.

  . . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
                                                                             
  .           anada 131                  by Schoolboy  (c)2000 anada e'zine .
      
  . . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
