'The Poets Lodge'

Money - Money - Money

2011-04-21T09:34:00.000+01:00

Money, Money, Money.

Money, money, money.
This word I hear you say.
Is the root of all that’s evil,
and that we’ll buy judgment day.

It’s true of course, it’s been abused.
Just the way religion’s used.
But just as there are holy men,
who only want what’s right.
So, there are philanthropists
who wield financial might.

They don’t ask for glamour.
They don’t ask for fame.
But they are very happy,
to be bankers in lifes game.

We all start as pawns,
but if we get right through.
We can become the White Kings Knight,
and be lifes bankers too.

If you see money as evil,
what I suggest you do.
Is look into the mirror,
and see who looks at you.

Do you see the Black Knight,
with eyes for lust and greed ?
Or the milk of human kindness,
of which mankind can feed ?

Don’t be afraid of money.
It’s lifes eternal honey.
It puts the icing on the cake.
When the sacrifice for love you make.

Life pays us back with high rewards,
if we can strike the vital chords.
That’s why the music world is strong.
They have the chord in every song.
When we buy the peaceful day.
The music world will pay the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Catcher In The Rye - WHY?

2010-01-30T21:56:00.004Z

WHY ?

`The Catcher In The Rye`
caught Mark Chapmans eye.
Pulled from death in ’77.
Thought the plan was hatched in heaven.

He read the book, and then could see,
the shape of his own destiny.
But he didn’t read through the childs eye,
and he answered the call
of the Black Bishops cry.

He felt the guilt, and felt the shame.
He was now a part of the Black Kings game.
He had the perfect cover.
He was every childs brother.
But a wiser child than he,
would read the book,
and surely see.

`The Catcher In The Rye`
is in our own minds eye.
The `catcher` is the White Kings man.
Try to be him if you can.
You catch a child with love, and care.
You never harm a single hair.

As we are all children
in the White Kings eyes,
we should never learn the word `despise`.
If we feel we have to fight and kill.
Then we’re acting out the Black Kings will.

I hope Mark will appreciate,
before he entered the Black Kings gate.
He learned to spell the word `despise`
and is glorified in the Black Kings eyes.

All the time he’s of our kind,
he has the chance to clear his mind.
Appreciate the word of love,
and help the man he sent above.

`The Catcher In The Rye`
was written for the childs eye.
It helps the childs mind to see
the glory of lifes mystery.

Chapman saw the broken dream,
coincidence, and fate.
But he didn’t understand
how to interpret hate.

Honesty, trust, and loyalty,
are three main words that he should see.
They guide us to appreciate
the power of love
in the White Kings gate.

If we all act in this way,
the `phoneys` will come out to play.
The game of `catch me if you can`
will be a part of the Black Kings plan.

Remember, lemmings play this game.
Your game could end up just the same.
Don’t chase them,
because you know,
It’s over the cliff that they will go.

Instead, why not play `hide and seek`.
On their own,
they’re very weak.
The power of love is on your side.
The `phoneys` ?
well they cannot hide.

They cannot feed on love you see.
So true love is our destiny.
Read the stories through childs eyes,
and never learn the word `despise`.

P. Moring.

A Tribute To J.D Salinger who died 27/01/2010

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Game Of Life.

2009-11-25T21:45:00.000Z

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What are we ? I hear you cry,
as you see another die.

Why do we fight ?
Why do we hate ?
Do we have the answer ?
Is it all too late ?

If you recognise these thoughts as yours.
Do you run and hide behind closed doors ?

The truth is there,
as it should be.
As plain as day,
for all to see.

When you’re hiding all alone,
you’ve got the time to ponder.
Play the noble game of chess,
allow your mind to wonder.

Black meets white, and white must win.
Portray the black as every sin.
The game of life is just beginning.
The ultimate aim in life,
is winning.

You’re just a pawn, small and weak,
but if you use your cunning.
You know that it is possible,
to start the black force running.

If you look down from above,
all forces must be equal.
But if the black is every sin,
it must not be successful.

The game of chess is just ideal
when finding peace of mind.
As every figure on the board,
is there for you to find.

The rook is all the higher ground,
beaurocracy and life.
It’s jealousy and envy.
Lifes trouble, and its strife.

The knight is all the armies,
the laws that are unjust.
Weave your way through all of these.

The knight is also lust.

Then we find the bishop.
A strong, protective man.
As every man is guilty,
you are no worse than he.

Guilty is now neutralised,
as he must surely see.
The queen in all her beauty,
a wonder to behold.

This mother nature we call earth.
Her secrets never told.

Call her heaven, or call her hell.
The choice is yours,
you can now tell.

Threaten her with violence.
Threaten her with sin.
If this is the black queen,
she will let you in.

But I beg you,
look into the eye,
of the mushroom of the atom.

Oblivion is what you’ll see.
The home of the Black King.
Dark, dark eternity.

Now call her heaven.
Call her love.
Thank her for the sky above.

Play the music she longs to hear.
Read the books that make life clear.

Live life for love,
rich, or poor,
and she will open her secret door.

I can’t describe what you will find.
Behind the door of the beautiful mind.
But if you can imagine a heaven-on-earth.
Then you have witnessed,
the worlds re-birth.

Next time you cry,
Oh no, why me ?
think about lifes destiny.

You’re playing chess, every day.
One false move,
you’re on your way.

It’s easy to be lazy.
To think we needn’t bother.
We’re doing what the Black King wants.

OBLIVION IS FOREVER!!

Pete.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Song Of Life

2009-07-13T09:31:00.001+01:00

The Song of Life

The Song of Life plays gently
in the background of our mind.
It has the chord, the message too
to make life great, for me and you.

So soft that we don't hear a sound.
The Song of Life is so profound.

The 'lost chord' many call it,
and they search both high and low.
If only they were made aware
that it's in their own 'life glow'.

Our DNA has rhythm,
and our heart, a perfect beat.
The Song of Life played gently
makes our time on Earth complete.

When the 'Chord of Life' is filtered,
when it doesn't play so pure.
The Song of Life skips a beat
and now we're not so sure.

Listen to your conscience
and you'll hear it playing there.
The sound of truth and honesty
invites us all,
to love,
and care.

Music is your life force,
deny it if you dare.
Deny the love of music
and your life's now stark and bare.

The Song of Life plays gently
in the background of your time.
That time, so precious and so rare,
is yours to give, and yours to share.

Sing along and dance with joy.
It's a stimulus for girl and boy.
But drink and drugs?
No-No not here.
Your 'conscience' tells you 'very' clear.

Deny it all you might,
you know it's right.
As you sit in silence all alone,
the Song of Life
makes the truth be known.

Our DNA has rhythm,
and our heart, a perfect beat.
The Song of Life played gently
makes our time on Earth complete.

Pete.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's Just An Illusion Baby.

2009-06-18T06:12:00.003+01:00

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's Just An Illusion Baby

It's just an illusion baby,
I thought you knew.
It's just an illusion baby,
This World so blue.

The stars in the sky.
The air we breath too.
It's just an illusion baby.
I thought you knew.

Our brain is just the hard-drive,
of a miniscule computer.
So small and so invisible,
I thought you knew.

Every vision that we see
on our computer screen,
is made up of just two digits.
I thought you knew.

Those images - magnificent,
that flash infront of you.
They're just an illusion baby,
I thought you knew.

Each word you type.
Each mouse-click too.
Instructions from the hard drive.
I thought you knew.

Life is just 'The World Of Warcraft'
being played out just for you.
To teach you all life's lessons.
I thought you knew.

'The Game Of Life' has a mind of it's own.
God's own hard-drive we've been shown.
It's just an illusion baby.
Now you Know.

Pete.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Fell.....

2009-06-10T14:07:00.002+01:00

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Fell.

Sometimes dark, sometimes blue,
the purple haze envelopes you.
Wraps you with it's swaddling skin
not letting other souls slip in.

A pumping fluiditious sound,
of a heart-beat that is so profound.
Protects and feeds you love each day,
until it's time to make your way.

Out into this world so cruel,
you enter more precious than any jewel.

The purple haze is fading,
it's done it's job so well.
But now you're on your own,
on your journey down the fell.

More treacherous a journey
you'll never undertake.
Your journey down the Fell of life
does not allow for any mistake.
One slip, you're on your own,
left to fate, will you be gone?

Blessed at the very start
with a vulnerable, precious, pure heart.
Each slip, each trip will damage you,
as you descend from the world you knew.

Love is the feeling you are shown.
But in your mind....you're on your own.
With Love comes Guilt, inseperable.
These twins make life intolerable.

The Fell has rocks and craggy slopes,
all very hard without strong ropes.
They hold you firm when you slip and fall.
They keep you straight and walking tall.

But ropes wear thin, and frey, then fail.
Who's there to catch you, hear you wail?
The Fell of life is a cruel hill,
and the twin called Guilt has an iron will.

Seperate these twins and find
your peaceful, happy, contented mind.
The Purple Haze of love you'll see,
and you'll know it's how life should be.

Peter Moring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tin Can Dan

2009-04-25T07:58:00.003+01:00

----------------------------------------

Tin Can Dan.

Tin Can Dan
was a funny little Man.
He had a stoop when he walked,,
spat and dribbled when he talked.

He was out in the morning,
in the noon, the eve and night.
In the pitch-black you’d see Dan
with his little pen flashlight.

Searching through the bins,
through the gutters too.
Searching out those tin-cans
that were thrown away by You.

He always had those black bags
stashed about his person.
He’d fill them with those crumpled cans
that often cut his leathern hands.

He’d walk for miles every day,
collecting cans Tin-Can Dan’s way.
Smiling happily at everyone.
Some were scared,
most thought him fun.

B-O was his favourite Deo’,
baths he had no time for.
His clothes were greasy,
as they shone in his glory.
Those clothes could surely tell a story.

Dan never missed a Reading Rock Festival.
He knew all the kids,
they all thought he was a fool,
as he stooped around, black bags in hand,
he got a free ticket to every live band.

Each night he’d come back
with Wickes’s trolly overflowing.
Sack-on-sack of old tin cans,
he’d spirit through his front door
to his garden and his plans.

Each month or two the cones went out.
“In here!, In here!”
You’d hear old Danny shout.
The lorry parked outside Dan’s gate
and they loaded it up
with help from his mate.

Off to the scrappy,
Tin Can Dan was smiling now.
Through the pain of bone cancer
that made him stoop and bow,
he never complained though
as he stopped to wipe his brow.

The kids at the hospitals
all loved him that’s for sure.
As every penny Tin-Can-Dan made
was headed for their door.

TV’s, games and toys.
Treats to make them smile.
Was all the reward that Danny needed,
his sweat and tears had been rewarded.

Pete.

Tin-Can-Dan is now too disabled to collect
cans anymore. The Reading Rock festival
promoters invited him as a guest of honour
last year.
Not sure he’ll make this one though.

-----------------------------------

The Black Queens Bed

2009-03-06T10:33:00.002Z

***********************************

The Black Queens Bed

The Black Queen lifts her Sultry head.
Looks round at those who share her bed.
"I see you've all come bearing news".
"So good to see you fit your shoes".

The 'Robot Wars' no more a dream.
Conspiritors compound the scheme.
Digits on computer screens,
keep cash control within 'Her' means.

We've built the dream of our 'Black Queen'.
We can now see, and 'all' be seen.
'Robot Intelligence' not in doubt.
Exceeds our own, inside and out.

The life-blood of our modern world
is cash that shows that we have 'earned'.
We are haemorrhageing badly now.
It must be stemmed.
Do 'we' know how?

Have the 'Surgeons' taken vows
to our 'Black Queen'?
Who really Knows?

'Big Brother' is her favourite Son.
The war He's fought is almost won.
He watches and tracks our every motion.
With 'stealth' he follows in high resolution.

The Brown Crusader, Obama too,
are in her bed.
(I thought you knew)

Pete

****************************************

M.S. The long way round.

2008-12-14T08:07:00.002Z

**********************************

M.S. The long way round.

When you hobble down the road
like you're walking on sharp rocks.
When you find to let the blood flow
you lop the top off both your socks.

When the band around your stomach
gets tighter with each stride,
and you think you've drawn your last breath
as your lungs get squeezed inside.

When your leg feels stiff and solid
like it's twice it's normal size.
When the numbness and the tingling
brings the tears into your eyes.

When you find your feet are dragging
as you walk with utmost care.
But your wobbling and swaying
makes everyone stare.

When you have to reach out for a wall
to try and make yourself stand tall.
But all around look down on you,
insisting, being drunk won't do.

When the tiredness grips you
and the light fades far away.
You can barely see a thing now,
though it's a hot and bright day.

When your memories are of being fit.
A runner, walker, grafter too.
You see everyone who's walking past
not realising that it may not last.

When mother nature casts her spell,
and no-one knows, or can tell.
Just what she holds in store for all,
as she pushes us against the wall.

With one small tweak to our nerves and sinew,
she can cause such havoc to her chosen few.
Prey you're not selected by her,
as she picks on the old,
and the young,
and the true.

Pete Moring.

************************************

The Xmas 'Gift' Of Love.

2008-11-30T12:10:00.005Z

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Christmas, and my presents
all fit inside a sock.
I’m thrilled to bits to find some nuts,
an apple and a pear.
But wait; what’s this,
another present there?

A little plastic notebook,
(real crocodile skin for sure).
I can write out special secrets now,
and post them through the door.

My friend and I are getting old,
we’re eight now don’t you know.
The sisters in the big house,
our love we can now show.

"Corrinne, Stanley loves you"
seemed to be just right.
We crept up to the door,
slipped it through
and ran with fright.

We watched then from a distance,
behind the hawthorn tree.
Stanley tried to push me back.
The thorns all stuck in me.

It made me scream and shout,
as Stanley picked me out.
Then to my despair,
I saw Corrinne standing there.

With her sisters she was laughing
for all her worth at me.
But I didn’t find it funny,
falling back into that tree.

The message from the notebook
served a purpose, that’s for sure.
As after that, we were good friends.
No need to slip notes through the door.

The notebook?
"nothing special",
I can hear you say.
But without that piece of paper,
we’d have missed that special day.

I might have had a bicycle,
toy cars, or books galore.
But the memory of ‘that little book’
will stay, forever more.

A gift of LOVE was given.
It was all could be afforded.

I took the gift of LOVE with pride,

and So -,

I was rewarded.

Pete.

**************************************

The Light of Life

2008-11-14T20:31:00.004Z

-------------------------------------

The Light Of Life.

If a poet holds the light of life,
and shines it all around.
Who lights the light
that burns so bright,
and always lets them down.

It's said that they who hold the light,
will have their hands burned raw.
That when they hold the light aloft,
they will be kicked down to the floor.

The poets must be foolish,
for they have been advised
of the dangers that they face,
as they put their thoughts to rhyme.

Would you hold that light so bright?
Could you take the pain?
Could you tolerate the suffering,
ridicule and shame?

Could you lay your life out bare,
and let the vultures take their share?
Could you cut your soul right open,
to let all of mankind stare?

When the guilt of all our brothers,
finds a niche inside your mind.
Will you burn it out with the light of life?
Or cut it out, with a red hot knife?

Maybe youll just carry on
with the life you call your own.
Let the poet hold the light of life.
As the way, they have been shown.

Let them have their hands burned raw.
Let them be washed up on the shore.
Let their body be cut for every sin.
Then why not rub the salt right in.

The poets there to be abused.
For all the time they hold the light,
for all of us, who are confused.

Pete.

------------------------------

Light Accross The Universe

2008-10-13T14:20:00.005+01:00

Light Across The Universe.
(Tribute To 'Live-Aid'-1)

***********************************

It was a long, hot summers day,
when we all stood and shone the way.
We took our power from the sun,
and shared it out with everyone.

As we stood in awe through a veil of tears,
we gave light to the world for future years.
We showed that love was a power within.
If we use it right, we’ll always win.

As we witnessed love with our own minds.
Did YOU feel a strong force rise ?
Through the shoulders, up the neck,
between the ears and eyes?

I know you’ve felt it many times.
It’s the reason for our being.
We generate this energy,
and seeing is believing.

It only comes with true love,
and it can be mistaken,
for the love of lust,
and this my friend,
is the course that can’t be taken.

To get back to that magic day,
when all the groups came out to play.
A light shone through this universe,
as we put our hands
into lifes purse.

The light so bright, we couldn’t see.
But it helped to forge our destiny.
It showed the Black Queen we’re not beat.
We won’t accept her tasty treat.

All she could do was stand and stare.
She didn’t have an answer there.
Our love of life she couldn’t handle.
We have to keep alight that candle..

If John were here, you’d hear him say,
“We must relive that special day.
You have the chord.
You have the words.
You have the love of millions.
So go and show the Black Queen,
you won’t settle for oblivion”.

When all the world has witnessed
the power for themselves.
They can’t deny this force of love,
that we first take
from heaven above.

They can’t deny we give it back,
to help our love grow stronger.
The Black Queen now looks down on us,
beside herself with anger.

She cannot live on love you see,
and love will forge her destiny.
She’ll starve herself to death, and then.
Fall into the world of her Black King.

Don't forget to leave a comment before leave.

Cheers, Pete.

***********************************

THE MIRROR

2008-09-23T15:38:00.003+01:00

***********************************

The Mirror.

The Mirror looks at You and Me.
Tell me What in hell,
does the Mirror see?

Hair out of place.
OH what a shame.
Do our sleeves hang about the same?

Is that a SPOT, perhaps a MOLE?
Maybe a blemish on the Eternal Soul.

Perhaps we could do with a nip'n'tuck.
Cover our skin in slimy muck.
Cucumber on the eyes my dear?
My word, who said that you look queer.

Pull that face a little to the right.
Yes, you're in the perfect light.
Dont move!
Stay just as you are.
You're the best thing,
You've seen, by far.

Now listen hard.
Can you hear a snigger?
Look into the Mirror.
Are your ears getting bigger?
A few more lines, a bag or two?
Is the Mirror playing a joke on YOU?

What's up?
Don't want to be 'normal'?
So you want to be a FREAK.
Is that all?

So BE ashamed of WHO you are.
No-one cares but YOU.
Look again into the Mirror.
You'll see there's YOU, and YOU.

So, who sniggers from the mirror
when you 'poise' and 'pose'?
Is it YOU?
Or YOU?

YOU have the final word.

Pete

**********************************

THE GARDEN WALL.

2008-09-23T09:17:00.003+01:00

**********************************

The Garden Wall.

The Garden Wall has a story to tell.
STOP! And listen
before you pass by.

Go to bed in the park.
Be afraid of the dark.
Take a spade and a fork.
Some bread and cold pork,
with plenty of tea in a flask.

When the Moon throws a shadow
across the forked bough,
start to dig at the base of the light.

Dig and dig.
Sweat like a Pig.
Like the one you have with your bread.
But keep your eye open for 'Nick',
or just like your Pig,
you'll be Dead!

Twenty feet down
and you'll hear a strange sound.
STOP! and take further instructions.
For the well you just DUG
is now feeling SMUG.
You listened,
and NOW you are TRAPPED!

The story the Wall has just told you.
Was told in the tongue of your own.
When did YOU open the door for 'Old Nick'?
Did he come to you dressed as a Clown?

If life's a triangular circle.
The 'Labyrinth' IS the front door.
Go to to the front
and you're right at the back.
So why did you come here before?

The harder you PUSH!
The harder the PULL!
The Steeper you climb.
The further you fall.

Listen to stories?
You listen to lies.
Tell the TRUTH!
And no-one believes you.

Fall from grace,
and they laugh in your face.
Life's a 'tissue'
that YOU must see through.

Pete.

*****************************

THE DOMINATRIX LADY.

2008-06-03T06:52:00.004+01:00

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Dominatrix Lady.

The Dominatrix Lady called at my home today.
She walked past me and sat right down,
said she was here to stay.

She told me that I had no choice,
in matters of my own.
That she was taking full control,
I would always obey her commanding tone.

She made me turn off every light
inside my home that burned so bright.
She said the darkness was her friend.
This lady of the night.

I became Oh So submissive,
as she poked and stabbed
with her pointed stick
that was so red hot,
but burned like ice on me.

This Dominatrix Lady
made me stumble and fall.
Every time I saw my escape,
She built another wall.

Why did she choose Me,
to be her whipping boy?
I couldn’t see the sense at all.
But sex was not the reason
I became this lady’s toy.

With every nerve end tingling
I would go against the grain.
I would act out her life fantasy.
Destroy my own reality.

She fed me live red maggots
that invaded my home.
They gnawed so very gently,
inside my bleeding aching bones.

As every new day passes,
in my mind that’s not my own.
The Dominatrix Lady
dreams up her new tortures,
I’m then force-fed and shown.

It’s been over twenty years
now since she came to my door.
She wore a bright jewel encrusted badge.
It said ‘S & M’….. I’m sure.

Maybe she had it on back-to-front,
this lady of the night.
If she did, then I now know
Why I’m in this losing fight.

Hmmmmm………..

Pete.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE VELVET UNDERTONES.

2008-05-25T11:48:00.006+01:00

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Velvet Undertones

(A NEW CONUNDRUM)

The light tinted Velvet, silky and soft,
with harsh lines and cruel wrinkles.
Masks a truth that can’t be told.
It covers up dark secrets,
formed in the days of old.

It was a time of dark shadows in the night.
Of sounds of wailing, screaming, crying.
The Velvet soaked with human sweat
witnessed the unravelling.

The shadows multiplying now,
furiously writhing, thrusting, sweating.
Thinking they cannot be seen,
and if they were, would it matter?

Shhhh…it’s a secret.
No one need ever know.
The Velvet soaked in human sweat
discarded, knows the truth.

A secret of the night. where shadows gather.
Impressed upon the silky, soft velvet
where lines and cruel wrinkles formed
to hide a truth that can’t be told.
Because it wasn’t right in days of old.

Sixty three years have flown right by
and the burnt rag keeps the secret.
Of those dark shadows in the night,
impressing on Pure Light Velvet.

The war brought out the best in men
as they died for our treasured freedom.
It also turns them into shadows of the night,
where they don’t go to kill and fight.

They seek out the pure light Velvet.
They soak it in their sweat.
They sacrifice the light of life.
Then start it all again.

The Velvet holds the secret
all human life holds dear.
Read between the lines above,
to read the secret here.

Pete Moring.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please unravel the 'Conundrum' and post
your conclusion below in the 'comments'.

Many thanks, pete. (please call back).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Battle Of 'Mind-Hill'.

2008-04-27T08:39:00.005+01:00

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Self Esteem may be inside all of us waiting
to get out, but the 'Sub-conscious' is an
extremely ferocious foe. It stands on the top
of the hill with sticks and stones to throw at
you as you try to get past it.

If you do, you're then met by 'Memory' with a
whole arsenal of weaponry to stop you in your
tracks.

EASY to find maybe.
Easy to access? No.

To those who 'Have' accessed it 'Congratulations'.
Now the war really begins.

Pete.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FOCUS.

2007-04-19T08:32:00.001+01:00

=========================
A Tribute To Maxi Quartermain.
=========================

Ello Darlin',
Ello love,
Super 'Od's me name.
Makin' loads-a-money,
an' workin' ard's me game.

When I was at school,
I made meself a promise.
I was gonna be rich some day,
I knew me brain was 'addled,
but it didn't matter anyway.

I 'ad a will of iron,
that no-one could grind down.
When I left school and went to work,
I really went to town.

When every one 'ad finished
I would stay back late.
Making sure that next day
we'd cop a better rate.

I knew that time was on me side
and if I used it right,
I would be rewarded
with the 'gold'and all it's might.

I've grafted 'ard every day
to earn the extra quids.
I've provided very well
for me wife and me kids.

Me flash cars, flash house,
Golf and swimming pools,
are now me reward
for ignoring all the fools.

Still, I've got me knockers,
who think that I'm a waster.
They think I live off ill-gotten-gain.
But there's at least a thousand men out there
who've witnessed me strength,
me will of iron,and me pain.

So let me tell you darlin's
who are leaving school just now.
Time is on your side,
use it like I've shown you how.
Work 'ard, no matter 'ow it 'urts
and you will be rewarded.

Don't take out credit,
save your pounds.
Picture your 'ouse in it's ramblin' grounds.
Picture your pool in the sun.
Your race 'orse run.
Your flash car turnin' the 'eds.
Pretty soon me darlin's
you'll be rollin' in money beds.

Waste your time like all the rest,
and 'the rest' is who you'll be.
Stand out from the crowd
an' be your own 'self'.
'Yourself' is who they'll all see.

Be tough, determined,
and as honest as you can.
Don't fall for the 'Scams' of the 'political man'.
Focus your mind and visualise.
It's all there for YOU,
except the stars in the skies.

Pete.

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