MUSIC. LIFE BODY SOUL. MUSIC IS THE GREAT ALMIGHTY

I would fade out.

Give up.

Die without music.

Ime only alive.

Whilst playing,or hearing.

The sweet sound of tunes.

Oh yes.

Rhyme and bang on time.

Play me mister.

A descent track.

Then theres no need for you.

To feel my flak.

Play me some bullshit..

Commercialised boll ox.

And ime of out of  there.

Yes you mister.

Fear.

For i  ..

As you know will shed a tear.

Which always leaves you ?

Where you deserve to be.

I will pickle your cock.

And wrap your penis,(VERY TIDALLY)..

Then deliver it to your misses.

With the smile on my face.

As she answers the door.

I gratefully.

Hand your bishop.

TO YOUR WIFE.

Who was so appreciative.

Hence dont fuck with my music.

"SKY,BLUE, GREEN, FLASHES ,ELECTRIC BLUE."

AS THE FENDER & AMP PUMP, MELODY INTO THE AIR.

REVERBERATING,.

HITTING ME LIKE A BOLT OF HIGH VOLTAGE ELECTRICITY.

BRINGS ME TO LIFE.

SKY NO LONGER GREY & DISMAL

BLUE IS EVERYWHERE.

SKY SEEMS AN ENDLESS ENTITY.

OF ELECTRIC BLUE.

WHITE CLOUDS.

CANDY.

HOVER ALONGSIDE.

THE BEAUTIFUL TWILIGHT SKY

WHAT A DAY TO SKY DIVE.

AN ENDLESS ADVENTURE.

IPOD WHACKING OUT THE TUNES.

LEFT RIGHT & CENTRE.

LET ALL VENTUEROES .

VENDOR.

THE OPEN FREE.

SKY.

BOUT TIME YOU OPEND.

MRS SKY.

ANY LONGER.

A SLAP.

WOULD OF SHOOK YOU UP.

SLAP STRAIGHT ROUND.YOUR.

DASHBOARD.

.BOREDOM

I am sick of.

Cleaning, dusting, cooking, maintaining.

Looking my best.

Out to impress 

Whilst felling as if I've just been blown from the wild wild west.

Bored of.

Relationships (to much hassle).

Got no sex drive.

Got money.

Still ime bored.

Sat in the sun(2 hours to long).

Had a lovely dish,at the restaurant,(nice while it lasted,all of half an hour).

Tired of the same old.

Yes i am a fortune teller.

I predict mr moore .

That tomorrow you will.

Struggle out of your pit.

Drink your cup of tea.

Have a shower.

Drink alcohol.

Walk 3 miles,collect your script.

Go to sainsburys.

Eat some chicken.

Walk 3 miles back home.(sweating your nuts off)

Intake more alcohol.

Maybe write some shit.

Then fall into your comfy armchair.

And wallow.

Wake up the next morning.

Thinking Jesus .

Ive had enough.

Hands cover your eyes as you curl.

And splat your head onto your knees.

Sat on your pity pot.

Ah poor mr moore.

What is up with me.

I have a beautiful daughter.

Lovely home.

Bank account.

Good family(whom ime very grateful to)

For putting up with the shit i have caused.

Health could be better.

But ime not dying(hopefully).

HANDSOME AND DAPPER (AS YOU INSIST MR MOORE).

Talented.

INTELLIGENT.

Ime not going on & on(as ile be here all day.)

You see no matter what happens in my life,in regards to keeping ones self content.

Iam never fucking happy.

For now i will put it down to a state of mind.

And my mind is in a terrible state.

I have the answer to my happiness.

STOP DRINKING BLOODY ALCOHOL.

STOP TAKING PRESCRIPTION F...ING DRUGS.

Hence mr beat yourself up moore.

You will begin to see the beauty life is offering you.

Ok i here you.

But ime still bored shitless .

A PEEP AT THE COUNTRYSIDE

Spring is here isn't it.?

Flowers, pink blue red yellow & green.

Begin to bloom

Sky still grey & dismal.

Yesterday , spring,sprang.

Sky opened.

And down she beams.

Back on the bus-tard.

1 2 3, rabbits bounce joyfully in the open field that stretches for miles.

Miles of fresh fresh green grass.

As i catch them with my eye,from the top of the double decker bus-tard.

Playing free.

A white & brown horse .

Sheep cows.

yes this is the garden of England (Kent).

Such beauty grows.

Houses proudly show off there 15ft hedges.

Styled hedge.

One shaved & pruned to perfection.

In the shape of an elephant.

A peaceful desolate graveyard.

Layed to rest are the loved ones.

Grief stricken, people come brandishing flowers.

To decorate & let live the love all had & still have.

Still have thoughts,memories.

Heartache.

Love lives on beyond the grave .

Most of which ime sure were brave.

Love lives on in the heart & memory. of loved ones.

That's how we never die..

Make sure to have a child.

To carry your memory & name.

For that is our purpose alone.

Tall tress .

Must be hundreds of years old.

Green for miles.

In the horizon.

Grey mist.

Gathers around.

Shading the deep green grass.

Orchards & farms.

Mechanical machines, lay around the farms.

Smell the hay & breath healthy.

Before hitting the city .

Suffocated by car fumes.

Is the air in the city.

River run for miles through cutting countryside.

Ducks,swans ,& other wild life...

Harbour around the river.

With bridges made of old stone ,here and there.

A church.

Sat lonely. and somewhat sad looking.

In the middle of no where.

Just field upon field.surrounding it.

Ime feeling sorry & pitiful for the lonely church.

As most people (not all)but most..

Have deserted the church.

Believe in yourself.

Hence no need for so called god.

Bus is coming into maidstone.

Leaving the countryside behind ...

good bye beautiful. site.