Well I went into town the other night

Walking around minding my own business

When I noticed this neon light coming from

the end of a dark lane.

As I got closer,the was flashing,it read

The Club Of Pain

Well,I thought it meant it was a 24hr gym.

Open all hours,lifting,squatting,y,know all

that pain.

So I went inside to have a look around.

Took a seat at the bar,ordered a drink

But that made me think.

As far as I know,not many gyms have a bar

Maybe I took that one step too far.

So I was sitting there enjoying my beverage.

When I was approached by a blond with a

chest three sizes bigger then average.

Well as she was talking,my eyes started to

take in my surroundings.

The walls were decorated with whips and

chains,and leather bindings.

Well I started to get kind of nervous,but excited

at the same time.

I was sweaty,drinking too fast,I heard her saying

Im gonna make you mine.

The Club Of Pain

Nothing to lose plenty to gain.

You can gain a bruise,gain a scar.

Well the blond,her name is Carly,she looks like

she belongs on the back of a Harley

She was beautiful with tatts and an attitude

When she spoke she was nice,but at the same

time kind of rude.

When she suggested we go upstairs and get to

know each other.

When she saw I was a bit apprehensive.

She calmed me down and bought me a drink,and

told me the things we were going to do

It was quite comprehensive.

We went upstairs,and I am feeling kind of woozy

And I realised I had been drugged by the floozy.

She tied me to a bed,naked as the day I was born.

My soldier was at attention,saluting to the crowd

Put that thing away she said,for crying out loud

Well,I thought,you did tie me down with no clothes

What did you expect?

I don’t think she is after sex,it is pain I suspect.

She went and changed clothes,now she is wearing

leather.

Shiny and black,with big boots,and all the tools of

the trade.

I think I am a gonna here,I was afraid.

Handcuffs,whips and chains,gags,she has got quite a

collection.

What happened next I have no recollection.

I must of passed out when I first saw the whip.

She thought she was cool thought she was hip.

When I came to I realised I was covered in blood

With cuts all across my back and across my arse.

The cuts were not deep,but they bled like the

crown of thorns.

There was no sign of the dominatrix

or her little bag of tricks.

So while I had a chance I put on my shirt and pants

I ran down the stairs as fast as my legs would go

As I rounded the corner there she was,no,no,no.

Come on lady,cut me some slack.

But she wasn’t interested in showing any compassion

All she wanted was to inflict some pain of a fashion

I had had enough,I ran towards the door,I couldn’t

take that shit anymore.

When I got outside the sun was up,welcoming

a new day.

So just ran,I ran and screamed eat my dust.

What good is a heart,if it is always getting broken

I need to get stronger,so my heartbeat will last

longer.

My heart is vunderable to all sorts of pain and

trouble.

It has been broken time and time again.

It cant be mended cant be fixed.

My heart is thumping,pumping the blood through

my veins.

My emotions and feeling travel with the blood.

It enters my brain,I feel just the same.

What good is a brain,if it just sits inside my head

It sits there dormant,like its dead.

I am waiting for a brainwave

I guess there is no surf today.

I sit and listen,ive got nothing to say.

Come on brain wake up,cant you think of any

words.

One at a time,until they form a sentence.

A few sentences,a phrase or two

I am talking,just you and me.

What good are my arms,if I cant keep people

at bay.

I use both arms,and push them all away.

Just like my heart my arms can be broken.

Put my heart in plaster,my arms in a sling

Just like a bird with a broken wing.

I cant fly away,just jump around sort of

flapping.

I have come to realise that the audience

has stopped clapping.

The audience is silent,they have all gone away.

The audience now only exists inside my dormant brain

They are just a memory,a fragment from my past.

What good are my legs,if I cant run away

Run from my past,run to the future.

What does the future hold,well nobody knows

My legs hold me steady,keep me balanced

straight and tall,so I don’t fall.

What good are my legs,if I cant do some kicking

Every now and then I just want to cut loose.

It feels real good,finger licking

Just like a piece of chicken.

But just like my heart and arms,my legs can be

broken.

Put my heart in plaster,my arm in a sling

My legs are in traction,out of action.

As I lie in my hospital bed,my sort of moved

just a fraction.

I remember the time in my life,when everything

was fun and action

So I count down the days to when I am finally released

10 weeks of blinking,thinking,blinking,thinking.

My brain is finally starting to think.

So I take the plaster from my heart

remove the sling from my arm

My legs are out of traction.

So I walk out into the big,bad world

I new lease on life,a new skip in my step.

A new pip in my pep.

So I take look around,the sun is shining

The beer is cold

So put those bad thoughts on hold.

This is a story about a chicken,a sad little chicken

She lived in a cage with about 15 other hens.

Getting pecked and scratched,she was all

Feathers,blood and bruises.

Dreaming of when she was free,cage free

Free range.

She also had another dream,she dreamt about

her lover,Robert the rooster.

She hasn’t seen Robert in such a long time.

She can hear him cock a doodle dooing out

in the next pasture,

She wanted to feel his feathers,get nice and close

Cheek to cheek,beak to beak.

So this sad little chicken began to hatch a plan.

She was going to run away,before she became a

BBQ chicken in a supermarket.

But this sad little chicken,began to feel uncomfortable

Every day it was the same,around the same time

everyday.

She squatted in her cage and something came out of

her arse,and landed in the straw.

The sad little chicken,just couldn’t take it anymore.

It was an egg,she laid about three everyday.

No one cared what she had to say.

She was nothing but an egg laying machine.

She was still thinking about Robert the rooster

She wanted to feel his tenderloin.

Thinking about it,she felt a stirring in her groin.

She had also heard a lot of stories

About the trucks that came and took all her

friends away.

They were never seen again.

She also heard a word,she didn’t want to hear

Again,that word was factory.

To her that is completely unsatisfactory.

The sad little chicken,knew she didn’t have much

time,her plan was coming together.

She knew to run away,she had to come up with

a disguise.

Sitting in her cage one day,she heard a crow

flying past.

She knew that chickens were white,and crowes

were black

So she had to change from white to black.

The next day the farm manager made a mistake

and hit a switch that opened all the cages.

So 10,000 chickens,flew,walked,ran,they got

the flock out of there.

The sad little chicken,saw her chance,and she

took it.

She rolled in the dirt,rolled in the mud,which was part

of her cunning plan.

She was no longer white,she was as black as the ace

of spades,black,just like a crow.

So this sad little chicken,instead of going cluck,cluck

cluck,began to make the sound of a crow,caw,caw,caw.

Now the farm manager,who wasn’t known for his brain

power,saw this odd looking crow,standing in the corner

of the field.

He wasn’t interested in crowes,just chickens,and this one

looked like a crow,sounded like a crow,therefore was a crow.

So he turned his back,and rounded up all the chickens,

except for the sad little chicken aka crow.

The sad little chicken saw the truck pull up near the cages.

And she watched as all the chickens were loaded on board.

The truck went away,but she got to stay.

She had fooled the human that was for sure.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught  glimpse of

Robert the randy rooster.

She couldn’t believe her luck,she was about to get a,

well you get the picture.

After all the romance and chicken dance,they went their

separate ways.

She was laying there contented,when it started to rain.

Well all the dirt and mud was washed off her feathers.

She was a white chicken once more.

At about that time there was a change of shift at the farm.

And a smarter farm manager was now in charge.

He took one look,and he knew it was a chook.

Who had some how escaped the trip to the factory.

To him this was very satisfactory.

Well the sad little chicken knew that her time was up.

She tried to fly,but the man was to fast.

And he grabbed her by the neck.

He layed her head on the chopping block.

The sad little chicken,had her last look around.

Then the axe came down.

This story is dedicated to Gail Morgan

Thanks for the idea.

I am riding the black train

It travels on a broken track.

It travels through the mountains

And valleys.

Looking for some lost souls

It is gonna take you for a ride

You can run but you cant hide.

There are no train stations

This black train goes wherever

It pleases.

It comes around the bend looking

for someone who looks out of place

someone who is wary,someone who

Looks a little scary.

When ever you see the black train.

There is a black dog running at its

heels.

Licking at a wound that will never heal.

I am riding the black train.

And there are a lot of empty seats

The black train is on a mission

It needs all these seats to be full

You don’t have to buy a ticket

This ride is for free

But this is one ride that you don’t

want to take.

So run,take a hike,ride your bike

just get out of here,for heavens sake.

This aint no theme park ride we are

dealing with here.

This is a ride to nowhere

Do I make myself clear.

If the black train ever picks you up

It will never let you go.

And the black dog will eat what ever

remains of your soul.

The black train is still out there

searching every nook and cranny

The black train isn’t very fussy

It will even pick up your granny.

So keep your family and friends

nice and close.

Cause the black train is searching

it needs another host.

Another host and another dose of

pain and misery.

Keep the black dog at a distance

Or it will get inside your head

It will keep on biting and yapping

While you are lying in your bed

So what ever you do

Don’t ride the black train

It is the ride to hell

Is the black train still out there

I guess only time will tell

Also don’t feed the black dog

Keep it on a tight piece of rope

Don’t even pat it,don’t give it any hope

Keep it at a distance

Just be at the ready

Just take it easy,that’s it

Nice and steady.

Well we are heading towards the season to be jolly

Where the fat man in the red suit squeezes down

your chimney.

Eats all your cookies and drinks all your milk.

Leaves all the presents,goes back up the chimney

All without making a sound.

Well Santa is in for a surprise,cause I have a tree,

Bad Bad Christmas Tree.

My tree doesn’t like to be kept in a box,only brought

out once a year.

It looking for a victim,and the fat man in the red suit,

is ripe for the picking.

The reindeers wait outside while Santa goes inside

to deliver presents to the good and not so good kids.

Don’t get to close to the tree,my mind is screaming out

to him.

Cause the Bad Bad Christmas Tree is waiting,anticipating.

Don’t eat the cookies or drink the milk,because I think they

could be tainted.

Hang on,what is that sound,I think something has hit the

ground.

I think Rudolph and Mrs Claus have fainted.

There is evil in the air,the stench is everywhere.

The Bad Bad Christmas Tree,has put out a lure.

Don’t get to close Santa,cant you smell the smell

The Bad Bad Christmas Tree has spread its branches

waiting for the fat man to get close enough to grab.

If he gets to close,the branches will wrap around and

Santa who hasn’t got a clue what is happening,will get

caught in the trees web of deceit.

Come on Santa be a man,the kids around the world

are relying on you,they want their presents,they need

their presents.

But hold on kids,I think Santa is no longer around

His face is purple,his tongue is hanging out and he

is making this awful gurgling sound

No more cookies no more milk,Santa has left this

earth,no more sleighing around.

Christmas will never be the same,with no Santa

who will do all the deliveries?

Maybe Rudolph will round up a posse,and find a

replacement.

It is getting late in the season,and people,with good

reason,will wonder who the new Santa will be.

But my tree,my Bad Bad Christmas Tree,couldnt

give a shit.

He is back in his box,waiting for next year.

Cause he has a evil plan,

Whoever has taken Santas place is in for a surprise

Because he doesn’t realise my tree is not just a tree.

It is the Bad Bad Christmas Tree.

I went to the library just the other day

cause I had run out of books to read

My usual selection is crime,mystery,

thrillers and the like.

So I picked a few of my favororite authors

and made my way to the counter,when

I noticed a dark corner in the library

A corner I had never noticed before

As I got closer,I noticed this book sticking

out from the shelf.

It was like the book was calling my name.

So in a daze I walked over and picked up the

book

My hands kind of shook,as I carried the book

to the librarian.

She gave me a glare,as she looked at the book

And she said that the book was over 10,000

years old.

She said it was a magic book,and to be careful

when I read it.

What I didn’t know,as I carried the book home.

This is more than a magical book,it is a weird

little book,a book that can get into your imagination.

So I carried the up into my room,and started by

reading the title.

The Book by Anonymous.

As I opened the book a fine mist of dust was

released into the air.

What I didn’t know was that the dust had entered

my brain.

A seed had been planted,I was now part of

the book.

I realised I had become a character in the book.

And everything that happened in the book,was going

to happen to me in real life.

I was scared and afraid,I dreaded turning to the next

page,but turn I could,turn it I would,turn it I did.

When I opened my eyes,to my surprise,I saw a

mirror image of me,staring back at me.

It is Stefan a character in the book.

I don’t know if you have ever lived inside a book,

but it is rather confining.

But at the same time you can ride the pages.

Like a surfer rides a wave.

Stefan the character and I rode the pages to the

river Styx,which was up to its old tricks,its water

was turgid turning into a torrent,its waters so foul

it would make a blind man vomit.

It was spewing up bodies,coming up from the depths

The grimaces on their faces,showing the extent of

their grisly deaths.

I wanted to close the book,I didn’t want to witness

anymore gruesome scenes.

But closing the book wasn’t an option,Stefan the

character was pulling me along running from the

Styx,but now we come to the stones.

Styxs and stones may break my bones,but the name

is gonna hurt me.

He has lived at the stones for a very long time.

The name will cut out my eyes so I can no longer see

And cut out my tongue so I can no longer speak

The stones are located in chapter five in the book

But I was still running,but I couldn’t help myself,I had

to have another look.

I cant say the name,but he is the ultimate beast.

He would gladly expose my brain,and have a feast.

This book is getting gruesome,I might ride to another

pageStefan the character has done a runner.

I cant find my way around.

I close The Book.

I have been getting out of bed early and going

to work for most of my life

Work is boring,it takes up to much of my time.

So I got to thinking,maybe I could,have a bit of

a smoke,a bit of a drink,a bit of a snort,a couple

of little pills,and then drive to work.

So I arrive at work,completely off my face.

I put on my uniform,go to my work station

ready to perform my duties

And nobody even notices that I am off with

the pixies

Floating on the ceiling,high as a kite.

I am swaying back and forth trying to stay

on my feet

Still no one notices that I am not really there

My body is present,but my mind is on a different

planet

I am kind of going back to normal,so I ask for a toilet

break

I go to my locker,where I keep my supplies,grass as green

as a well kept lawn,pills all shiny and ready for the popping

After a quick piss,and a lets finish work quick wish.

I head back to complete and utter boredom.

Hoping the clock is fast,I head back to work.

My head is spinning,my arm is aching,I am waiting for

the pills to take hold

Here comes the sweet euphoria,the I am here but not here

feeling,if you know what I mean.

I get through the day without doing any damage.

I arrive home all safe and sound

I realise that today is only Monday,and that I have to get

through another week

I check my supplies,to make sure I am ready to go

Hold out my hands,yep nice and steady

Bring on Tuesday,my supplies are stocked to the brim

Who said work was boring?

I run through the back lane trying to

beat the garbage truck man.

I threw something away,something I

should have kept and treasured.

A present from my girlfriend.

A strand of her hair,that she put into

a locket.

I put it in my pocket,next to my rocket.

Well the locket in my pocket

was burning a hole in my soul

My rocket is grounded,it has blown

a fuse.

It has the under used blues.

Now you can see why I threw the

locket away.

I wasn’t getting enough action

So the locket went,straight in the bin

Have I committed a mortal sin.

The locket in my pocket

Is eating its way out of my jeans

by any way any means.

You already know what I did

It is in the trash.

My baby likes my money,she really likes

my cash.

She costs me more money than a freaking

car crash.

Maybe that locket had the bad voodoo

It brought bad luck and trouble like a hoodoo.

I am feeling uneasy,as I go through the trash

That locket took a lot of effort and cost plenty.

Well I found the locket at the bottom of the bin.

I am feeling a lot better,and to stop any future

hassles I went out and bought a safety pin.

I pinned that locket in my pocket,

So I cant throw it away.

My rocket is also pleased that you are here to stay.

The locket in my pocket

Is all safe and secure

The locket in my pocket

Is there forever more.

You are the only drug,I want to inject

in to my veins

Your love will flow in my blood

It will enter my brain.

And nothing will ever be the same.

You are the only drug,that I want in

my system.

like a 1.8 litre fuel injected piston.

You are the only drug,and I know

there are a lot of drugs out there.

I have been around a long time,

I have had my share,I am talking

about love,the love from above.

Forget about ice,crack,herion,or

cocaine.

When I am high I call out your name.

I get high on dopemine,it is flowing

through my brain.

The natural high,chemical free.

Like the nectar from a honey bee.

We are together,you and me.

You are the only drug.

Our love is heaven scent.

The perfume from above.

It floats down through the clouds

On the wings of a dove.

Your name is Linda or is it Lucinda?

I cant quite remember,I guess you

weren’t the only drug I tasted last

night.

Only joking baby,you the only drug

for me.

You make me feel good,pure,wild

and free.

I live on the edge of society

right on the edge of town

I am the outsider,the undecider,

The lone rider.

People tend to shy away when

they see me coming their way.

I shuffle along pushing my shopping

trolley.

It is full of all of my belongings,

a jumper,blanket,and all of my

broken dreams.

I tried to keep my life together

But it all started to wither.

All of my grapes fell off the vine.

Without any chance to turn into wine.

I live in the bush in a shallow cave.

If I don’t watch out it will turn into

A shallow little grave.

I have always been kind of lonesome.

The Outsider,living my life on the streets.

The Outsider,dancing to a different beat.

I have always just wanted to fit in

You know,not to fat,not to thin

Not to quiet,not to loud

Just to be part of the crowd.

Just to be a regular member of the

human race.

To have friends,and my own living space.

But when you are pushed around and

knocked to the ground.

It is hard to get up and have a look

around.

I tried to sneak a look,but all I saw was

a whole lot of trouble.

So I stayed on the ground,didn’t look

around.

I lived in the dirt,till it hurt.

The Outsider,undecider,the lone rider

Living on the edge of the city.

Full of false bravado,and self pity.

My shopping trolley has got a broken

wheel.

All my self worth down in the gutter.

What more can go wrong,why do I have

To suffer.

There is no answer to that question

I am just talking to the moon.

That’s it see you soon.

From the Outsider,the lone rider,

The undecider.

PS Once again this is a story,it is all

made up,or is it? haha.