when i was young my parents used to lie to me a lot
my mother once told me the water from the hot tap was poisonous
on another occasion
my father said the sound of the waves breaking was a Taniwha
now i have a reckless imagination
my folks were working class hippies
which meant we ate organic granny smith apples
but it was ok to swear at the television
there was always a pack of dogs in our house
all of which my mother had composed songs for
my father smoked weed and played scrabble with local madmen
sometimes he'd sit for hours without speaking and then suddenly say something like Reconbockulating and refuse to elaborate
for a few months to rebel my sister became a born again Christian
and i was forbidden to eat mc Donald's or watch the A team
so i survived on Volgels bread and Easten European coming of age films
its funny how everyone thinks their normal
at age 7 my heros were Arnold schwarzenegger , Elvis Presley and the Velvet Underground
the boogieman was Robert Muldon
at gay fawkes we'd burn crude effigies of him in screaming bonfires
i remember protests
against the springbok tour
against Rogernomics
against nuclear testing
carnivals of desperate rage
parading down queen street
amongst this unrest
the rainbow warrior came to town
i had imagined something majestic
after all it was going save us from nuclear holocaust
but it was just a big green boat
and then some french spies blew it up
i had the same name as one of the agents
at my primary school
the decal rating was so low it had a decibel point in front of it
once the mayor came to talk to the school
we all sat on the field
while she gave her speech two dogs started fucking behind her
and this says all you need to know about Grey Lynn primary
everybody in the neighborhood was fluent in violence
they spoke it at school, the teachers to the students the parents to the teachers the students to me
my mother would scream it at us in the bath waving wooden spoons and plastic sandals
my father would mutter it throwing toys and televisions out onto the road
the older kids would hiss it in the streets after dark
to this day i understand the language perfectly but cant speak a word of it to save myself
my mother believed we wouldn't live to grow up
that nuclear bombs would rain down on us out any second
so she let us run wild in the sewers beneath our street
high on brown sugar and nightmares
it was the 80's things were different then
when i was young
it seemed like everything was crazy.
now I'm older i know that it is.
my father said the sound of the waves breaking was a Taniwha
now i have a reckless imagination
my folks were working class hippies
which meant we ate organic granny smith apples
but it was ok to swear at the television
there was always a pack of dogs in our house
all of which my mother had composed songs for
my father smoked weed and played scrabble with local madmen
sometimes he'd sit for hours without speaking and then suddenly say something like Reconbockulating and refuse to elaborate
for a few months to rebel my sister became a born again Christian
and i was forbidden to eat mc Donald's or watch the A team
so i survived on Volgels bread and Easten European coming of age films
its funny how everyone thinks their normal
at age 7 my heros were Arnold schwarzenegger , Elvis Presley and the Velvet Underground
the boogieman was Robert Muldon
at gay fawkes we'd burn crude effigies of him in screaming bonfires
i remember protests
against the springbok tour
against Rogernomics
against nuclear testing
carnivals of desperate rage
parading down queen street
amongst this unrest
the rainbow warrior came to town
i had imagined something majestic
after all it was going save us from nuclear holocaust
but it was just a big green boat
and then some french spies blew it up
i had the same name as one of the agents
at my primary school
the decal rating was so low it had a decibel point in front of it
once the mayor came to talk to the school
we all sat on the field
while she gave her speech two dogs started fucking behind her
and this says all you need to know about Grey Lynn primary
everybody in the neighborhood was fluent in violence
they spoke it at school, the teachers to the students the parents to the teachers the students to me
my mother would scream it at us in the bath waving wooden spoons and plastic sandals
my father would mutter it throwing toys and televisions out onto the road
the older kids would hiss it in the streets after dark
to this day i understand the language perfectly but cant speak a word of it to save myself
my mother believed we wouldn't live to grow up
that nuclear bombs would rain down on us out any second
so she let us run wild in the sewers beneath our street
high on brown sugar and nightmares
it was the 80's things were different then
when i was young
it seemed like everything was crazy.
now I'm older i know that it is.
