toy soldiers(pt. 1: toy soldiers)toy soldiers
toy guns and action men and plastic figures and space marines and f.p.s. and c.n.n. and biases on the b.b.c. and shameless plugs and patriots, and millitary dynasties and tv ads and webverts and info packs and dvds.
(pt. 2: deep cut)
this is honor. this is adventure. this is teamwork. under pressure. this is action. it’s hard-boiled. this is brotherhood; see the world. this is manhood. this is skill. it’s a privilege. it’s a thrill. this is life. this is beauty. this
snakes and dragonsi hear your voice. still singing. still captured in quick disc revolutions. the songs that always filled my throat with melancholy lump; i still listen. like i said, best fiver i ever spent. i see your cremation in the streaky sky of equinox. as i meditate in stone circles i feel the scorch of the distant blaze. north west and overhead, loom dark clouds tinted red. sly spots of rain splat my cheek. over the trees to the east curves a rainbow. striking ragged crystal blue over the estuary. a spreading flame away to the west, as the sun ssnakes and dragons
golden hourthey crumple with the shock of a skip dropped from a height. spinning to the roadside. lovers parting a dance; swept back patterns of plastic and glass; a tire iron; a rainbow of fruit pops; the lace hem of a dress twirled and flung wide. the two cars, stepping aside, face again from the edges, a flicker of eyes met; a seductive suggested caress, disguised. they stagger and rest. the man’s face is buried in an airbag, the horn a drawn out hollar of violence and horror. he doesn’t move. the woman in the back seat hiccups a miniscule gasp. the other driver sgolden hour
fuck nationalityask it of the last armenians because a blag is like a flag with a vocal plan. my words be tasty - i’m the delivery man. this song be rippin’ through the familiar valley land.fuck nationality
i rock the audience with my lyrical polemetry, i spit my attack with an amplified energy, my anger’s jagged teeth to the throat of yer apathy; delivery’s a blackjack to the head of my enemy.
i rock it to your ear on fanatical trajectory some of them out there would like to dissect me. we won’t give in, don’t want no lobotomy. my words is a virus and it already in
pretty lame but hey!
hows life been treating you?
you say you just bought a print.
...im honored, thanks.
what does that mean for me?
do i see any $$ or is it all taken by DA?
cheers
And I'm great, how have you been?
Seriously man, we've gotta meet up somewhere soon for a proper catch up over some beers and jack; come down to oxford when your free.
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