WHY[1]

 

There is a place I go today

Up in the mountains far away

Where a terrible thing happened

So long ago before our time.

 

I find smashed metal and pieces

Of alloy near the farmer’s wall.

I am so young, I can’t imagine

What it was like to die, so long ago.

 

Three Hurricanes fly about

Fast and low and deadly.

Up and down the valley they fly.

Under the high tension wires they go.

 

Tragedy strikes as later in the day

Three Hurricanes hit the mountain

To be blasted to pieces.

Man and machine blown to dust.

 

Two Belgians and an Englishman

Died so young and such a waste.

Even violent avoiding action never

Saved them, so much G-force, then death.

 

I will never forget you

Or how you came to die in

Such a terrible way so long ago.

My thoughts are with you forever.

 

 

A TRIBUTE TO VOICE OF THE BEEHIVE

 

I first heard of you

In the hot heat of ’88

I was in love

My world full of bliss.

But the love

Died on the vine

And I was lost

And alone but I had

The songs of the

Beehive to protect me.

 

I’ve been to your city

With my friends

I’ve walked your earth

And yes, it’s my home,

My only home.

I’ve been the lover,

The barbarian

And the moon

All in my short life

On this earth.

 

I thought the Beehive

Had died

But in ’91

And finally ’96 you finally

Came alive again.

I thank Tracy

And Melissa for

The best music

In the world

And that timeless gig in ’91.

 

 

 

THE 80’S

 

For me the eighties were full

Of good times and bad.

I got into music and planes

Bubble gum guitars and cherry wings.

All this turned into heaven

And hell.

 

Friends came and friends went

More names than in the bible.

I never believed in God, oh no.

I went through hell. I saw hell.

The world was dying

As was my world.

 

Ethiopia, Libya and Chernobyl.

All paid the price in the 80’s.

Was it Thatcher’s fault

Or ours? You tell me.

At least Julianne was okay

And the Eves sang of summer.

 

I wanted to be a pilot

But would I really go to war

For my country and would you?

Look at the state it was in.

Leave the wars for a rainy day

Far from now.

 

I survived the 80’s.

Many didn’t but a lot did.

If you’re reading this, well you did.

For a brief moment

We can all be together

And say we were there.

 

 

 

ABOUT PEOPLE

 

I know many people

People I like, people I hate

Some I’d die for

Others I’d kill.

 

We are all people.

Yes, you and me, all the same

Some are good, some are bad.

Am I to judge or are you?

 

Some like football

Some like cars

Some like rugby

Some like music.

 

What went wrong?

When God created

All of the bad ones

I thank Him I wasn’t there.

 

In the old days

We were all the same

But today John is bad

And David is good.

 

One day we all will be

The same.

You and me, him and her

That day can’t be far off now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THUNDERCHIEF

 

How can a machine made by man

Have so much beauty and history?

The Thunderchief can,

From the start as a

Nuclear delivery platform

To its final days in

The hell that was Vietnam

This was the Goliath’s chariot.

 

Sent to fight over a land

Over 12,000 miles away

Above rice paddies and forest.

This was a pilot’s nightmare

Dodging Migs and missiles.

Yes it was the summer of ’69

Far from home and Uncle Sam.

We were the pilots of long ago.

 

With six tons of bombs,

Two missiles and a cannon

We went to war fighting for

The good ol’ US of A.

The Migs got my wingman

But I got the Mig.

Did I win? I did then

But Uncle Sam lost his war.

 

We lost 300 of our

Beloved jets but to America

That is nothing, is it?

We build more and more

And send them off to war.

Around and around we go

More jets and more war

Again and again and again.

 

But now all is quiet

The Thunderchiefs are silent

All waiting to be scrapped

Turned into knives and forks.

This is the glorious fate

For all old warplanes

Especially the old Thunder jets.

At last peace rules over Vietnam.

 

 

 

WHO I AM

 

Well, I’m Nick

I’m pretty fuckin’ cool

I like music, planes and books.

I have a carefree attitude,

In other words I don’t give a fuck.

 

I like love, chaos and war.

Well, yeah, war is pretty cool

All of those bombs and planes.

I like my wife, she’s a bit

Of a goth and a real witch.

 

I like All About Eve

And I adore Julianne Reagan.

I also like Voice of the Beehive

And songs with sweet melodies

That sing of summer and love.

 

I work at a mental asylum

With a load of pricks.

It pays for my beer and music,

It’s not my fault I’m perfect

In my own surreal dream world.

 

 

 

CRAZY BEER DRINKING SESSION

 

Yeah, the beer is flowing on this the night of the piss up.

The stereo thumps out the tunes, great music like the Cult and the Primitives.

All night we drink, more and more until the room spins.

Yes, lots have some more, I don’t care if I puke, after all that’s part of the fun.

I’ve got my bucket ready. More music on the stereo louder and louder it goes

Until the neighbours bang on the walls in desperation. Bring your friends,

Nick and Paul will drink their beer and kick them out.