Dear reader, if you’re still out there, celebrate with us the serenity of Sunday. But, if you’re waking up with a hangover, a half filed ashtray, and bottles in disarray, this song is for you.
One of the great from Punk Poet John Cooper Clarke. Let it be said this is the soundtrack to my youth, not the industrial wastelands of the north, but the amoebic anodyne suburban miasma of middle Melbourne. It is highly debatable as to whether one was worse than the other. The debate rages on…
J.C.C as a young man, (with an undiagnosed opthalmic condition).
Beasley Street
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=37QUUwp9xIs
Far from crazy pavements –
the taste of silver spoons
A clinical arrangement
on a dirty afternoon
Where the foecal germs of Mr Freud
are rendered obsolete
The legal term is null and void
In the case of Beasley Street
J.C.C as a more mature individual, (with a diagnosed condition, ” artists palsy”)
Editors note: This is just the opening stanza, you can look the rest up on Youtube. There would normally be more, but due to the recent decision by the federal government to maintain the current rate of expenditure on Centrelink allowances and peg them to the 1992 level, we’ve been unable to purchase the typewriter ribbon and re- employ Miss Crosthwaite (who is currently enjoying a workplace re-training programme sponsored by Telstra into the complex art of voice mail recognition for the duration of her salary free internship with an undisclosed corporation) until she has passed her office requirement training certificate. Doubtless, we have great faith in the Morrison Government, and the selfless activities of former workplace rations minister Julie Bishop in lobbying on our behalf. And any other member of society who is poor because they are lazy and have failed to understand mateship. Or any other who has lost a foothold on the ladder of opportunity. etc… etc..blah blah blah….