Sunday Sessions

Remember those days of rebellion

At the Cott sessions on Sunday

In a beer garden paradise

All the wonderful women

All the dodgy guys getting away with it because they’re young

Pissed on cheap beer

Pub rock pounding from speakers

Nineties music all afternoon as it was the nineties

Running amuck with your mates by the Indian Ocean

Meeting friendly people at the OBH

Saying Happy Fucking New year at New Year to everyone

Falling into lust for delicious moments

Stolen kisses of consequential fire

Dancing in underage glory

Wild undulations as a dandelion being

Mega celebration enhancing existence

Experiencing bloated enthusiasm

With good friends before they deteriorated into addiction and insanity

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Sleep

 

When I’m alone in my head

Possum headed and cosy

Ready for my voyage through the night

Willing on dreams

Of naked women and beer

And vast swaying fields of marijuana

Wishing and waiting on sleep

RTR on the radio

Some weird disconnected hip hop spoken word extravaganza

Loaded up on psych drugs

Name yourself

Critical unit

Bloated man

Cliched stoner

Madman magnet

Smelly hippy

But in dreams

Not

Madness

Electric dildo daylight
Muffle-bum madness
Crypto-psychotic musings
To tempt
To trip
To terrorize
All day long
Pants down for action
Bloated
Wobbly
Yet somehow tempting
Never denied
Always supplied
Crumbly green herb with orange hairs
Relaxation
Recreation
Celebration
Dancing naked round the burning civilization
With a hope
Of Transcendence