crazy, crazy oidhcheannan

Hallo uair a-rithist, nach neonach e nuair a tha do pharantan a' dannsadh gu oran nach aithnich thu agus nuair a tha e a' tighinn gu d'aire gur e oran leis na Di-Luainean sona. Nach neonach e nuair a lorgas tu a-mach gur e oran mu eccies a th'ann. Nach neonach na laithean anns a bheil sinn beo. Ach 's e oran math dha-riribh a th'ann. co-dhiu airson a' bheagan aimsir a tha romhainn, ni mi dain dhaibh airson bhur tlachd.

If I can't believe in poesy
Where is my heart for sure
I haven't lived for long enough
To feel religion's lure
If all the truth is heartache
Where is my wisdom now
I feel I'm trapped in dystopia
With nothing to my bow
Break the will of the rulers
By living like a girl
Or sleep with one so fair
That thrones begin to birl
We haven't had a time of freedom
Since minus three thousand and six
But soon the dropsy calculates
The end of evil bricks
Time is time and not a poopy
But eternity will come
When love flowers against concrete
And peace says, my will be done

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Agus a-nis, bodach

And then, I held my life in the balance
And resolved to throw it away
It was reduced to common equivalence
My love has ebbed and frayed
And alien to me, I watched her
Smile at the one she destroyed
In all points she avoided my anger
But I found her, cursed her, enjoyment
So now I perceive as a relic
That my heart is gone with her heart
And joy is somehting quite frantic
To be shunned as we still stay apart

Oh tha mo laithean cho bronach as aonais mo charaid ghaolach a Lunnainn. Tha e doirbh smaoineachadh air na bomaichean a thachair gun dragh a bhith orm uimpe. Tha i alainn gu dearbh agus cuimir, ach cuin a chi mi a-rithist i, uill chan urrainn dhomh innse. Tha bodach dubh ag radh freasdal dhe nam chluais, ach tha i nas cothromaiche na Dia, agus mar sin, tha dochas fhathast ann.
Tioraidh
DC

Chan eil moran air fhagail

Hallo a chairdean, a-nis nuair a tha stat nam poileas gar ceannsachadh de na b'fhearr na bardachd, ach gu mi-fhortanach, tha mi a' ruith a-mach a stuth math. Chan eil an uidhear agam sa b'abhaist.
Bidh sibh sgith dhiom aig a' cheann thall, ach seo e co-dhiu

They supported Hitler
They supported Franco
The British ruling class
Has got to go
The Nazi-funding sybarites
Are sycophants of Anti-Semites
Nietszchian blood-suckers
And malingering kiddy fuckers
So fuck them over all at once
From Tony B to David Bunce
We'll drown their screams in blood
And bury them in mud
Priest, priest, priest
Knuckle, knuckle, knuckle
Blair, Brown, Blunkett
Buckle, buckle, buckle
And that goes for that fucker Clarke too

A-nise, fear nas aighearaiche

She expects to be a force of nature
And I suppose she is
Like Boudicca dancing over the abyss
A demi-god in pale earthenware

But the way she forced herself into my room
Undressing as she came
Showed what men could never tame
Was mine as my disaster loomed

I grow tired of all these visions
They're so exciting, for a failure
Like me, with all my fission

Viewed in a slightly holy light
It reminds me of my feelings
For her, and how she turns

bardachd san nos ur

A-nise, smaoinich mi gun cuirinn dan romhaibh a tha fada, airson's gun cnuasachaibh air agus innse dhomh cho math no dona sa tha e. Co-dhiu, seo e;

THE EMPEROR'S NEW THESIS

Touche, touche I've linked the past
With the present in an orgy of bloodlessness
My mind is crass
But penitent and all too worthy
I dug the rows of hypostases
And reinforced the claim
That death in life rules over men
Ever speaking, ever maimed
And on the pages there enshrined
I proved that souls are banished
From the bodies they inhabit
Leaving the corpses of the famished
To stare out of the sockets of the state
Enforcing whoredom's penalties
Entranced heads on zombie bodies.

The rivers are only tributaries
That flow through the mills of cessation
On their way to the pit at the heart
Where the gods of the present, our men
Rip entrails and vision apart
And the grey desert of concrete
Becomes sicker and sucks up the dead
Till the walls are papered with wails
And the blood is no longer red
But cancerous and toxic black
Our gasps never reach sense
And I write of this disaster
As against my sentience

There's no longer life expectancy
We only expect slow hell
From where it comes doesn't matter
We're all victims of ourselves
And the harpy's vision that promoted
Cluster bombs instead of bread
Shatters all inside the hive
To our doom we're blindly led
But still I write in deaf tones
In ears that have been scorched
And tears can never flow no more
From my eyes that have been parched

A river of words that no-one can read
Speaks to me that time has now passed
As I float over radioactivity swamps
And my arse gives out a blast
Of fruity melanomas

To kiss the earth and live once more
Is not the fate of this god
He's deader than most, his lore
Says once there was life
But now there is none,
So return to your cell in the caverns
That were made from shrapnel mountains
For fear you'd see the truth
We sickened and poisoned our home
The place that we once knew as everything
Beyond the diseased gladly roam
There is no hope it seems at last
Under the weight of corruption's blows
The penitence I once gave to my courtiers
Deserted them in their throes

A universe of deception, the world
So I live in a monastery
Where the dead pray more than they laugh
And grime covers all in its slurry
But fascism reached the afterlife
The angels they rave and they shout
The earth that you once had to pass through
Now shits you, you bleed all about
So give up man, on the promise
That life when you're dead will be peace
The lead factories will still produce
And your brains will be there in the lees

Latha math a bhalachaibh, na bithibh cho bronach riumsa, idir idir.

Bleigeardachd a' bhaile mhoir

Hallo, hallo a chairdean, nach annasach e nuair a tha an uidhear de Naisich a' basachadh nar latha-ne. An Toiseach Eideard Heath, agus a-nis Iain Tyndall sean-cheannard a' BhNP. Agus ron a sin Am Pap agus Seumas Callaghan. Co bhios an ath fhear no te. Mairead an Tughaidhear, smathaid, neo a' Bhan-Righ. Neo Maighstir Griffin, neo na b'eibhinne buileach, fear anns an Riaghaltas, mar am fear dall nach ainmich mi, neo Seonaidh Srabh, oh tha iad uile cho olc, nach eil? Agus airidh air duais math ann an ifrinn. Nan leughadh sibhse leabhar sam bith le Mark Curtis gheibheadh sibh na tha mi a-mach air.
Ach co-dhiu, agus a-nis airson an da uair a thide a tha romhainn, bardachd;

Social peace in inadequacy
My wishes' dreams are fraught
With fragility and dyspepsia
Of a mental kind I sexually caught
But love is the transmission
Of lies and pain and guilt
It reaches into your chest
To read there the message on the hilt
To ease a passing passion
To cure a lonesome heart
The corpses lie together as
Their wishes lead them apart
Into the gloom they set to wander
To bring about a fix of glee
Without seeing that the deeds they ponder
Are easier without the deeds unfree
Egoless and peaceable
Just for the unjust
Love will be the time when murder
Is unthinkable with lust
So let me drown in my own melancholy
My jealousy of all who breathe
Shall see my mind collapse enough
And my troubled thoughts unseeing seethe

Bho phearsanta, gu poilitigeach

When pondering on petroleum
I feel the truth should be told
It is a crock of shit forsooth
If death could be so bold
So bury the oil that's been lifted
And refrain from burning the rest
The distillers truly are the fuckwits
Let's beat it from their breast
A corporate plan to asphyxiate
The world and all of its trees
In time we'll kill all the richest
In spite of the State and their pleas
To create a world without Satan
The princes boldly lobotomised
All their Gods and prophets
Until the people are downsized
By minions of the money men
All business is a rapists ploy
To butcher by all means necessary
In truth we are no toys
But free thinking human beings
The most powerful not created by God
And when we come to insurrection
We'll slay the people pimps like dogs
Fuck the future when it's fascist
Fuck the fascists and their fuhrer
New Labour sucks blood from necks
And bludgeons mothers from their future
So shoot the Labour party and the left
Before starting on the right
Free communism or death my friends
Life to be lived or night

Nach mi tha sunndach, co-dhiu, latha math dhuibh, agus tioraidh
DC

Mont a ra mat ganeoc'h mignonez?

Hallo, a chairdean, tha mo shean flatmate anns an ospadal a-rithist, le tinneas inntinn air choireigin, ach tha e a' coimhead nas caoile, agus bha e ann an deagh shunnd nuair a chaidh mi a choimhead air an-diugh. Agus tha mo fhlatmate ur a' gabhail an uiread de dhrogaichean nach bi e fada mus teid esan an sas anns an aon rud. Tha mi'n dochas nach bi, ach chi sinn de thachras.

Co-dhiu, airson mo thinneas fhein, seo dain neo dha.

But now I watch the ceiling's rafters
For signs of life inside this hold
My eyes have seen too much of death
I wish for cockroaches to behold
And grow with mice and centipedes
Upon the shell of the dying world
To start the folly now anew
To bring a spark to the hollow-hulled
For as sleep fell on humanity
For the final time the ships were berthed
And rotting fibres found their rest
The soul of man was lastly earthed
As the explosions tore apart the atoms
That latterly had had a place
My gloom reached unearthly pitch
I sobbed in silence, twisted face
That now twitches with the current
That ran through me as water fell
I dispersed my thoughts so peaceably
The jealous world will cry all hell
Upon this cadaver that escaped
The mutual curse that ended life
The grossest lie was saved for last
We save ourselves in unending strife

Dan mu dheidhinn deireadh an t-saoghail
Ach a-nise rudeigin buileach eadar-dhealaichte

Depth of the sea I've passed
Where ships and trawlers lie
The wreckage of the economical
My wisdom never tried
To breach the thought that minds are lost
Along with hearts that never illed
My mind will reckon up the cost
Of the death in waves, in tides, in still
Waters I sink but swim for deep
And wait to slowly implode
There's no point exploring the damage
The sea it always bodes
Ill to those who've crossed it
And ill to those who stayed
We'll be drowned in time as water shines
On the beaches that we flayed
To speak in Navajotion
Is all we can do to refund
The loss of a world that we murdered
On the other side of the sand

Nach sin tha sanntach, ille
Mar sin leibh

Graet am eus beajou d'al loar

Harlo a chairdean, de bhur naidheachd, tha mo cheann gus sgoltadh leis a' chnatan mhallaichte seo. Tha e gam chumail bhuaibh mo leughadairean ghaolach, ach a-nise, seo daintean.

The Puppets walk and talk
And even sometimes sing
But I'm ashamed of their ploy
The bells will never ring
Over their scorched dust
As their graves are plundered for parts
And organ left in putrefaction
Reveals what's left of their hearts
They know nothing of the time
We spent deploying their charms
Our parasitical affection grows
And rings so many alarms
Their heads above the parapet
It's time to shoot them down
For growing like a canker
Upon the mind of the clown
Who feeds them with their fictions
So they can make it rich
Dismembering penises
Is how I spawned the bitch
Who sucked the blood of the innocent
Prostrate at my feet she lay
But I bid her farewell, I choose
To deliver her to death today
For sucking out my inclinations
And draining me of life
In time to come there will be no future
Except for what I planned; the strife

Earrann

Being a slave is just a habit
No truer word was said
But if wages treat you as if you're dead
Far better to be a rabbit

Or a pigeon although they're bastards
They don't ever have to work
Or obey, use knives and forks
No pigeon navy was ever mustered

It's time he said to take a flying fuck
To destroy the state's machinery
And become the kin of ducks

Good Lord he said I can't believe
The end I have in store
I'd rather be a lioness, and then I'd loudly roar

uile ri-cheile RRAWRR

Bha mi a' cluinntinn sgriach bhon ath-dhoras, tha mi'n dochas nach deach duine sam bith a ghoirteachadh, ach co-dhiu.

Gant ur porpant didreuzus, e yin d'ar foar

Hallo, hallo a chairdean, chuala mi program air leth math air Radio nan Gaidheal sa mhadainn an-diugh. 'Sann mu dheidhinn Bhaideanach a bha e. Tha e coltach nach robh moran daoine san sgire aig a robh gaidhlig sna laithean ud, agus bha am program claraichte o chionn coig air fhichead bliadhna. Agus tha an tagh a bu chudthromaiche ann am bliadhnaichean a-nis gu bhith deiseal. De an t-oran a b'fhearr a rinn Tiodhlaic Posaidh neo David Gedge anns na bliadhnaichean a bha iad a' claradh. 'S e Brassneck neo You Should Always Stay In Touch With Your Friends, an da a thaghainn-sa ach tha na daoine coir a tha air a bhith taghadh air My Favourite Dress agus Dalliance a thaghadh airson an fharpais mu dheireadh, a-mach a sin bheirinn mo bhot gu Dalliance, 's e oran druidhteach a th'ann agus airidh air duais air choireigin, ged nach e a' bhonn oir aig a' Mhod.

A-nise, airson mo bhonn oir fhein, seo daintean.

There is no knowledge in death
Or in the depths of psychosis
As Vainamoinen knew too well
We lapse before the prognosis
You're doing well jsut stay sedated
I think my life belongs to hell
For which heaven has me compensated
I lie awake in a treeless dell
And grin at stars inanely
I've begun to lose my mind
And think of her insanely
We were a messiah, so I claimed
Instead of jsut a putsch
And so I quiver as I masturbate
I belong I think as Dutch
To lazy dropped out schools of men
Where destiny has given help
To us to hope as figs or grapes
And not pass in the world of kelp
Where life is one with trees and slush
And anger has related
To all my relatives and friends
And not with her my fated

betek aman e teue ar yer

Plainly the distress proved too much
For the fledgling sanity I nurtured
My birth stifles the chance of love
That longingly I'd purchased
My heart succumbed to an illness
That spread slowly to my mind
And now my thoughts beg forgiveness
From the girl who I maligned
The death that I remember
The ghost that I became
Are only part of the romance
Of living without shame
When your very thoughts are guilty
Your hands an act offensive
It's time to give up on life
And take a new defensive
Posture, I will mine my own demise
For riches human, cultural
That strike the hearts of men
And leave the awe of nothingness
Behind, wrought by my pen

Oh mo chreach, chan eil moran aoibhneas nam bhardachd, sdocha, gu bheil e caran amaideach na nadar, ach co-dhiu.
tioraidh
dc

bananaidh mhalairt chothromach

De an diofar eadar da bhananaidh agus damhan-allaidh? Uill tha ochd casan aig fear dhiubh, agus 's urrainn dhut an da eile ithe gun moran sgreamhachadh, ach sin e. Tha iad cho faisg nan nadar. Ciamar a tha rudan a'dol leibh, tha cnatan orm an-drasta, agus chan urrainn dhomh dol taobh a-muigh an taighe. Mar sin, cha bhi upraid air m'aire an-diugh, agus tha curtains ur agam, woo-hoo.

Co-dhiu, seo dan gruamach.

Dirtballs bring the doom
That I had hoped to avoid
Along with the police
The pickled in the void
Who splay our limbs and grope
The better to dismember
But if I choose to recommend
The dead will breathe this September
As the world colapses once again
My thoughts cry out at night
Lets watch the corpses flail about
And bury piggy boy in shite
For my praise never fully falters
The choice of Hoyle is insurrection
To burn alive and bury dead
The minions of affliction
While scabs don't heal and bruises blush
The papist prods don't stand a chance
Pump the station full of pepper
And then the failures find romance
In place of a paranoiac state
Where love is rushed and flustered
In time we'll think relaxedly
Our mental wills we mustered
To create with death and despair
A new world fully clothed
Instead of brutal nakedness
A wench whose wings deposed
The tyranny of church and parliament
The gropery of fuhrers
As Schwarzenneger strangled himself
We rode, and laughed, and slaughtered

Tee-hee.

SONNET ABOUT YANN

More fastidious than any clerk
Is Yann catching his fish
For years his work's been his staple dish
What can I do but work?

He's drenched between meals
As he goes parading on the surf
He's unashamed to say his birth
Is as the clean-shaven nemesis of eels

His future never seemed too bright
Until he saw those eyes
And now he's out there every night

Where the fish and he converse
So long that he grows scales
With crazy patterns on the reverse

Nach sin tha snog? Co dhiu 1984 ann no as, feumaidh sinn dol romhainn.
Tioraidh
D

Er bloaz man, evel warlene, e ya Tadig da chaseal

Ciamar a tha rudan a' dol leibh, tha e duilich cluinntinn mu na thachair ann an Lunnainn, tha caraidean is cairdean agam a'fuireach ann, agus tha mi'n dochas nach deach an goirteachadh, ach co-dhiu. Chan eil beachd agam air co rinn e. Chan e rud a chuirinn taic ris ann an seagh sam bith daoine cumanta a mharbh, ach sin saoghal nan ceannairceach co-dhiu.

Air am modh ceudna, seo daintean gun bhrigh.

As I go walking
By the sea in times of need
I can see my heart is ashes
And my thoughts they tend to bleed
Instead of changing peaceably
They stick like wire on gauze
And cause the weather's changes
Until I've screamed myself hoarse
The rain before the privet hedge
The sun in the thunderstorm
I bring my genie's bottle closer
To uncork and free the worm
I'm mad or mentally ill is true
But never the whole story
I love too much the dark side
The Satan that made me hoary
And so never appeal to innocence
The gaze that deranges oh
For take it from me you'll die
And miss the life and loving so.

'S docha gum bi deachdaireachd againne san duthaich seo fada nas aithghearraiche na bha sinn 'n duil le naidheachd an t-seachdain seo, ach sin mo bheachd cuagach.

The party is dying
The priests are a' quiver
Whence comes the demon
To peck at their livers
The sodomites are glowing
The lovers are dead
Oh women and men
Come on back to bed
But time is so short
And embers don't last
Our humanity's future
Is trapped in the past
Where dictators evolved
From chieftains of tribes
In all forms of statehood
We know now their bribes
That life should develop
As hamstrung and trapped
Is the wish of all statesmen
Though they speak just of crap
And birchhood and gallows
The justice that rapes
If you remember
Then tear off their capes
For wizards are Labour
And witches are scum
We can't be bewildered
By those without sum
Who deceive and embitter
The better to constrain
When we shoot our masters
We liberate the brain

Agus mar sin leibh

tha mi cho sona ri briogais sioda

Hallo a chairdean, a-nis tha ho-ro gheallaidh Bob Geldof seachad. Nise, co chreideadh gun d'rinn e dad de dhiofar airson daoine bochda Afraga agus nam milltean de thuath-cheatharnaich anns na h-Innsean a tha a' feitheamh airson chobhair bho iompaireachdain malairteach calpachasach an t-saoghail. Co tha a' creidsinn gu bheil esan a' creidsinn fhacail a thuirt e no co a dheidheadh as aicheadh gur e tagradh airson cumhachd a tha e a fiathachadh dhuinn gun teid sinn an sas innte airson's gun dean e deoghal air bod meardha TB coir nas fhearr le taic bho amadain an t-saoghail. 'S e duine gu math sinigeach a th'annam ach carson a chreidinn facal a labhair nam bleigeardan beairteach co-dhiu.

Ach seo bardachd

Stop messing about
With popes and papal thrones
The world belongs to peasants
Who aren't anchorites or crones
If we can kill the half-dead masters
Then we'll be free of proddy lies
No God above can tell us
Which way our future lies
Except for the anti-nazis
Who live heaven here on earth
Let's kill us all a fascist
And let their cavities be the berth
Of the daggers of righteous folly
The swords of proley justice
The answer is our freedom
And not the life compulsive

Ma chlo-bhuaileas duine sam bith na daintean a tha seo, bidh mi cho taingeil gun teid mi a thoirt na cinn dheth na bodaich, na naisich a-mhain. Ach chan eil moran coltas gun tachair sin.
Co-dhiu

BLACK FLAG

A black flag is all I can muster
For my poor recalcitrant heart
A mourning for all of my wonder
I lived to fall apart
The thunder that struck me in silence
Ripped apart the threads of my thoughts
And returned me, in oh so much violence
To the earth I'd seen as nought
The blackness pours out of my eyeballs
And chokes the voice in my throat
I'm wrong there are no more marvels
To lift me, release me, afloat
But I'm sinking in smoke as it floods
From the holes in my body's vision
I'm lost in rebellion for blood
My anarchy remains my prison
But my heart is steadied by fumes
Of lost love and hope and desire
And released as they exhume
My past life will burn in the fire

Me a zo o vont da verc'heta
Trugarez
Daibhidh Ceannfalamh