NEW LYRICS FROM DOMINIC

TEMPTATION DOZES

(Am --> C x 5) Third fret jazz chord -- 4 E chord -- F -- spoken ending

Temptation dozes with the roses who grow salvation in snowy meadows that yesterday shan't know

so I stare at frozen skies where herds of strangers arrange the changes that the angels can't grow

as the anorexic starve away to blame the sunrise that blocked a five-eyed nerd who flexes a toe

and slurred words shed blurred time like rhyme to unfurl hedonistic crimes at absurdity’s foe

where winters hinted about the withdrawn myths to trick more devout birds at a wordy snow

but open understanding didn't continue to expand the religious tree to please the free-flow

though as the amber sand expands to fight the banned world's stance to chance the pre-loved below

the freedom guaranteed was but because of a seedy sea of empathy free of words and melon curd gateau

sowing egoic hurt to slow onto the finite night where saviours replay the dance of the unheard banjo.

Ambivalent apocalypses tormented wherever the abandoned went

with atomic artisans apostles fermenting a small percent of a segment

and the automatic angles accelerate to prevent a presented present

although slowly but surely the sudden strangers sullenly circumvent

talking of the chosen flamingo who framed the frozen men in a tent

reframing the mythical width of the diffidence their yesterday sent

as armies of angry-warehouse-ants work for a situational pretence.

 

The sound is behind by mind and that's a puzzle you confined

but the daily grind chimes like a wakeful hustle that isn't mine

thankfully there was a swanky prayer my fish didn't wish to refine

and I can only tell you that my dishes get better with time...

.... you didn’t know it because you slowly knew it was already done

and at the final wonderment he lost the desperately costly fun

after the tundra thunder cost the boss the secret setting sun

without the peripheral hindsight igniting the thunderous one...

... but maybe she had given up respecting me

or maybe she’s too busy reflecting the freeze..!

!...but she reared my ears to hear jealousy’s dynasty

until the rhymes of time stole back my soul’s keys...!

I hoped things could last but so did the wood & the neighbourhood grass!

Your hope for a clear forecast broke the ceiling of feeling like it was glass!

I stand up and it falls -- I had to work for it all.

I knew the ego is a fool so my tale was not tall.

(Am --> C x 5)Third fret jazz chord -- 4 E chord -- F -- spoken ending

THROUGH THE BLUE

I used to love you so damn much the hunger of what I am kind of amused you too.

Your touch pasted mindless numbers and your tongue tasted of royal cashew.

Your soul spoke many myths and controlled my goals with brash bowls of clues.

You seemingly broke my dream which woke another ‘me’ inside a lover’s shoes.

Hell may well make today an enemy, but I pray the rain’s refrain remains true.

When I held your hand, at last the past screamed a sweet semitone.

And so if the inanimate has soul, let me be a rolling stone.

But if you were never with me, then I have forever been alone.

And I'll let my pointless dreams crystallise a sweet joint unknown.

I grieve what I cannot perceive so receive the love that God chose not to show.

You never ceased believing in fate as we navigated to those great unknowns.

And soon the leathered moonlight spoke for the night and woke up forever’s foe.

I’m not sure if that heaven is hell’s sworn enemy, or how the grass might grow.

Moments seem to swell in memory now, yet I dream only of what I don’t know.

The world conspires with us or against us as we try to face it.

But if there’s really nothing to win, then why must we chase it?

If the future happens today, can tomorrow ever really erase it?

Feeling on the hill kills but still nothing will ever replace it.

Though I didn’t accept every word I heard her say, April’s fool became May.

The world had no need until the greedy God dreamt up His bottomless buffet.

The brave saviour suffers the same tall tale that the chainless call a cabaret.

It’s okay to fall into cliché but try not to let your complete unique decay.

If hell gives ecstasy and yet I forget living memory, I shan't stand in the way.

She held my hand, and at last the past screamed a semitone.

If life is made of soul, then let me be a fast-rolling stone.

Forget pointless dreams that don’t appoint a joint unknown.

If she was with me forever, then I have never been alone.

C G

Am Em

C G

Am Em

A C

A G

D D7

Dm Em

D D7

Dm Em]

DEFTLY BREATHLESS

Do the government learn from every essay?

Laughing is not the opposite of crying

for the water brigade fires you drying.

Which body is the CIA going to burn today?

Ambulant sounds reignite the patient lying

warring the daughter who is tired of his sighing.

Why would Soothsayer rely upon a new way?

The same flame sought the bought artefact

as if the blame game taught her to react.

Was the court case based on a Jesuit jay?

The longer texts examined tarted art sinful and slack

before cohorts taught you to see more white in black.

She nodded at me but I was looking the other way.

Why would you want a straight to change into a gay?

Is this all you won from me in the universe they play?

Was my true body a perfectly hedonistic new oddity?

Does the strange odyssey make this mystery shoddy?

Are you gonna insist that I see things you way again?

Or do you think I remember all you had to say back then?



LUNAR COMPOUNDS

Lunar compounds soon surrounded the tunes of new men,

consuming towns of prose detailing our walk back to them,

possibilities freed by snails and frail roses grew in dew den,

failing to transpose the prose detailing trailing the true pen.

But when my art departs from the heart-attack awe and zen,

I then speedily forget the wars the tweedy lea me to condemn,

filling mayhem’s hill with dreams of mythical forgetfulness again,

yet still loving yesterday in the same way I did back then.

Though both oaths broke the end of growth like the snowmen,

I know not the forgotten razors and rotten saviours slowly begot them,

so let us transcend the labels of friendly foe and shot gem,

as forever leaks green dreams and hidden seas of hot phlegm.

But infinity freed the incredibly inedible trees from which its artistic words came,

happening blurred awe reborn to restore the absurd heart-attack game,

repairing the startling artefact fact of happenstance’s dance to fool the vein,

warning hearts to dwell upon sheltered walls to stall the sane all the same.

And if the resplendent heat sweetened each completionist leaf,

we may yet reach yesterday’s mythical beach of sunset grief,

whose feats sweetened the defeatist forgetful head of relief,

as the blue news courted the caught thought chief,

and next thing you know it you owe him no beef.

He could have afforded more happenings an’ visions shambling,

but more fought to contort sunny thoughts and wizened ramblings,

balancing the blackening skies that reprised blue-moon happenings,

impeaching preachers whose hyperbole eyes surprised me saddening,

differential unknown stones slowly teaching the sheik sky slackening

grappling with frosty mosses & costly losses & hyperbole maddening,

shining the eyes that the diplomat compartmentalised hyperbole gladdening.

They planted wondrous tunes within the thunderous moon few knew,

slipping into dreamy extremes of beginnings that let me forget you too,

grave-meaning saving the cave-eyed brides regretful inside the blue,

guiding sleeping heathers and speedy forevers hiding from a past forever,

weekly snogs and seedily free songs both longing to last together,

libidinous treasures embossed in songs of grass and grass leather.

Although the unknown owed only the bliss stoned,

this was but a lonely trust to the kisses that this loaned.

…her fed line led mine here to dread the dead rhyme,

and so my heart nearly resigned in time to wed thine!

LIKE ALL THE OTHERS

When was it that you went? The postcards have been sent.

No thanks to the government for the cinnamon they lent.

My tongue don't fund fondue; to fondue it will not relent.

My rations spent in passion, they borrowed my lament.

I wasn't certain I'd see you, though Jesus' lie was meant.

No thanks to the imagination whose pranks were spent.

No thanks to the warriors whose love appeared as a repent.

No thanks to solitary, the excitement of the release, the rent.

Where was it that you went? I remember head in the tent.



THE MOON WILL STILL SOON RISE

Brother our sisters are the twisters in the skies

There’s much to resist but not a lot to realise

The touch of destiny is another compromise

The crux of everything hides away nothing’s lies

Papa wipe the existentialist tripe from my eyes

The sun’s alive and the moon will still soon rise

I ride the feelings that are hard to summarise

Energy may live forever but the body still dies

Mama fate isn’t hateful but it forsakes my art

My souls wake to goals never too late to start

I want to stay forever but still be a tiny part

Can’t you shake yesterday’s ma off my heart?

 

NO THANKS

When was it that you went? The postcards have been sent.

No thanks to the government for the cinnamon they lent.

My tongue don't fund fondue; to fondue it will not relent.

My rations spent in passion, they borrowed my lament.

I wasn't certain I'd see you, though Jesus' lie was meant.

No thanks to the imagination whose pranks were spent.

No thanks to the warriors whose love appeared as a repent.

No thanks to solitary, the excitement of the release, the rent.

Where was it that you went? I remember head in the tent.

It started out like all the others:

she chased his stars to their ends.

He thought that they were lovers

but she knew that they were friends.

When the men posed like mothers

then his eyes grew a new camera lens.

She knew that forever wasn’t above her

but was still too true to make amends.

And so when the sky outgrew its covers

the road to heaven became full of bends.

It ended like the story of every other lover

when neither could pretend to be friends.

 HALFWAY TO HEAVEN

Halfway to heaven, I forget to rock the gate and lock the door.

Tomorrow’s help weighed heavy to sell sorrow to selfish helter-skelter awe.

Halfway to twenty-seven, their startled cartels sold them even more.

On levels where I revelled, the harlot hearts sent mine a war.

Halfway to twenty-seven, yesterday was reminded to refine the law.

On levels that they devilled, I sent reason to refine this sleepy shore.

Halfway to heaven, you might realise that I must have loved you more.

Halfway to heaven, I realised statements like this must rust to the bore.

Someone knew for true what the sun and rain became.

They threw up a tall tale that the high heart came to claim.

I finally grew into the one ‘the fun’ stalled all the same.

But what has begun must eventually call an end to every game.

Even if they lost the toss to cross the day the night might repair,

spiteful revelations placed there to fight the sprites’ stare,

as if to save a spacey word to requite the heights right there,

and though I requited grace absurdity to write this trite prayer.

Although the unknown owed only the bliss stoned,

this was but a lonely trust to the kisses that this loaned.

…her fed line led mine here to dread the dead rhyme,

and so my heart nearly resigned in time to wed thine!