Masochistic Me
Me father beat me mother
he'd beat her black and blue
then he up and left her
with another mot to screw
me mother in her agony
on me her pain did vent
and I grew up an angry lad
bruised and somewhat bent
then one day the world did open
and I walked in through it's door
I left the shite hanging over me
and knew I wanted more
but this world is not a kindly place
to a young man with no means but dreams
frustration and motivation
left me bursting at the seams
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
First I crossed the ocean
and lived in Dublin town
after paying respects to my kin
buried in County Down
first night in the city
I drank with Ronnie Drew
amidst bodhran's and fiddle
filling the craic in O'Donahouge's
Upstairs lived a lass named Mora
a lawyer for Sinn Fein
and I dreamed of being a rebel
playing in the patriot game
but of hate and violence I had my fill
wanting no more in that way
you'll never get peace filling a violent land
God rest the I.R.A.
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
After many months in Erin
I roved through Europe's cobbled streets
and seemed to make a lifelong mate
with everyone I'd meet
spent some time in Slovakia
and really loved it there
shooting Slivovice
with the lasses o so fair
another six months after
I found me self in Leeds
still searching for that something
to satisfy my endless needs
but I never seemed to get it
there or in my native land
I just seemed to be wanting more,
feeling cursed and damned
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
Now I've found me self settled
in such an unlikely place
Forty years are in my bones
but there's still something that I chase
I find it hard to settle down
to be thankful for what I've got
though by Christ I'd never trade away
the things that are my lot
Nothing's ever good enough
no matter what I do
still haunted by my childhood
and still feeling fuckin' screwed
for me mother in her agony
on me her pain did vent
and I grew up a tortured lad
battered and somewhat bent
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
Me father beat me mother
he'd beat her black and blue
then he up and left her
with another mot to screw
me mother in her agony
on me her pain did vent
and I grew up an angry lad
bruised and somewhat bent
then one day the world did open
and I walked in through it's door
I left the shite hanging over me
and knew I wanted more
but this world is not a kindly place
to a young man with no means but dreams
frustration and motivation
left me bursting at the seams
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
First I crossed the ocean
and lived in Dublin town
after paying respects to my kin
buried in County Down
first night in the city
I drank with Ronnie Drew
amidst bodhran's and fiddle
filling the craic in O'Donahouge's
Upstairs lived a lass named Mora
a lawyer for Sinn Fein
and I dreamed of being a rebel
playing in the patriot game
but of hate and violence I had my fill
wanting no more in that way
you'll never get peace filling a violent land
God rest the I.R.A.
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
After many months in Erin
I roved through Europe's cobbled streets
and seemed to make a lifelong mate
with everyone I'd meet
spent some time in Slovakia
and really loved it there
shooting Slivovice
with the lasses o so fair
another six months after
I found me self in Leeds
still searching for that something
to satisfy my endless needs
but I never seemed to get it
there or in my native land
I just seemed to be wanting more,
feeling cursed and damned
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
Now I've found me self settled
in such an unlikely place
Forty years are in my bones
but there's still something that I chase
I find it hard to settle down
to be thankful for what I've got
though by Christ I'd never trade away
the things that are my lot
Nothing's ever good enough
no matter what I do
still haunted by my childhood
and still feeling fuckin' screwed
for me mother in her agony
on me her pain did vent
and I grew up a tortured lad
battered and somewhat bent
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
Never knew just who I am
a wee bit brash and lazy
bit the bollicks the best I can
drivin' me self crazy
Labels: Poem/song
posted by Ed Meers @ 6/08/2009 08:42:00 p.m.
3 Comments:
At 2:45 p.m. ,
Catherine Vibert said...
Epic! And sad... Great storytelling, do you have music with that?
At 7:32 p.m. ,
Ed Meers said...
I'm working on the chords. I think that I have the general melody and rhythm figured out. When I write many of my lyrics I tend to have an old Irish standard going through my head, so it's sometimes a struggle differentiating and making it unique. That being said, there's oodles of Irish tunes out there that are simply different words to the same music. I'm not such a big fan of that, but sometimes you can't help yourself from doing it...
I don't know if it's really so sad. It is my life, and I don't considerable myself to be a miserable ol' sod. I like a line from the Lowest of the Low: "The twisted punch-line said/ they'll understand you when you're dead/ say that you're not angry/ just savagely disappointed"... In the end I'm really a romonatic and struck by the overall apathy in which people live their lives. Looking at the song in a half full sort of way, there is an unsatiable sense of endeavouring that might never been sought if my childhood had been all roses and happiness.
Anyway, I'm getting long winded here. I'm glad you stopped by - seems you're the only one who does. I don't mean that as a complaint, I write because I want to. It's just an observation and an expression of gratitude!
Slainte!
At 7:49 a.m. ,
Catherine Vibert said...
Hey, I love coming by here. Your stuff has an intellectual component that I crave. You were just out of the loop for a long time. I'm sure you'll build up an audience again, the tried and true way, reading and commenting. Arduous but real. Sigh...
I was just reading an article in NYT about blogging, and how many bloggers give up when they realize that people just don't read it because it's there. Very few blogs 'hit the big time' and the ones that do, I'm not really sure why. Perhaps they got mentioned somewhere that actually does have an audience. I think of it like a writing circle or I'd have to quit. And I may quit anyway at some point, if I ever get my ass in gear and start trying to actually get published. But for now, I am learning a bunch from reading and blogging, so for that I am happy.
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