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Heathcliffian Surly

by Marmaduke Dando

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1.
Odessa! 04:28
I sit at my desk writing reams of mess, about the commonwealth of independent fates, or the convergence of finite mistakes, and how we could figure in all of this. We could have it all if you'd only say yes, yes, yes... Odessa, I say it regrettably. Odessa, uncontrollably ashamedly. Odessa, I confess you're just a name to me, but oh, no, oh, Odessa. How I want it to be more, is it possible we could be more? Look out here comes dusk, the curtain dawns on our lust. The boats pile out and the fog creeps in. It's a pale and daunting early evening, a look out on a deep blue but Black Sea. Odessa, I say it regrettably. Odessa, uncontrollably ashamedly. Odessa, I confess you're just a name to me, but oh, no, oh, Odessa. How I want it to be more, is it possible we could be more? Hmmmmm. Odessa...Odessa!
2.
All of Me 03:25
Forgive me not for the slightest humility. Question not my plight's futility. You once handed me your heart, I just crushed it with a laugh. Treat me not as a gentleman, but like the savage that I am...and you'll have all of me. Yes, I mean all of me. Well, what's left of me, is yours to keep and do with as you please. Now you have my attention undivided, walk on as if you care not in the slightest. I've tried many avenues and they all seem to lead to you. You must convince me that I am something you cannot stand...and you'll have all of me. Yes, I mean all of me. Well, what's left of me, is yours to keep and do with as you please. And here in the flames of passion, I attempt to beat down with my rationale...well to burn under your scorn is a better fate than none at all...and you'll have all of me. Yes, I mean all of me. Well, what's left of me, is yours to keep and do with as you please.
3.
Is it the same for you dear? Do you dream of farewell speeches all day long? And about how sorry they'll be, when you're finally gone? Wishful thinking, but past caring. You're a pearl cast before swine, the audience of insolent eyes, it's no surprise brilliance is not rewarded but buried alive. I'm dead to the world and the world is dead to me. I'm no good at lying so to hell with society. There's things in that pretty little head, if left to me it'd take eternity to be said. A flash in the pan, you never could be, I'm dead to the world, but not you dear hopefully. Hardly dead. I think you're underestimated considerably so. To rise above a life that was slated so incredibly low. Wishful thinking, but past caring. Oh you gave them no satisfied smiles, the audience of insolent eyes, it's no surprise brilliance is not rewarded but buried a live. I'm dead to the world and the world is dead to me. I'm no good at lying so to hell with society. There's things in that pretty little head, if left to me it'd take eternity to be said. A flash in the pan, you never could be, I'm dead to the world, but not you dear hopefully. Do you see what they've done? By forcing us out they've won. Oh, but hang on, you're my dream consolation, I'd rather have you than their appreciation, what's yours is mine, I'll take your brilliance and make it sublime, sublime. I'm dead to the world and the world is dead to me. I'm no good at lying so to hell with society. There's things in that pretty little head, if left to me it'd take eternity to be said. A flash in the pan, you never could be, I'm dead to the world, but not you dear hopefully.
4.
You've got the body. I've got the soul. If you were looking for the ride of your life girl, you're going to get it tonight. Those summer nights, highly charged. They've got their fix, shall we go halves. Don't be shy of declaration, there'll be plenty of time later, for patience. And on my forehead I have tattooed in capital letters "LIFE CAN'T GET ANY BETTER". Blow restraint, don't contemplate. Well, reserve is for the cautious, and must remind you, we're far from your house. It's not by chance, mine is close, we'll leave this joint, sad and morose, because two of it's new born and dearest children have left the building. And on my forehead I have tattooed in capital letters "LIFE CAN'T GET ANY BETTER". When love is a direction that excludes all others you will know life can't get any better. Now we're stomping, at The Prince. You've got rhthym and sex dripping right off your fingertips. We steal a moment in shadows, passing sirens capture us on strobe. Well Seven Sisters is offensive but the undercurrent is pure electric. Now the lights on the skyline form in capital letters "LIFE CAN'T GET ANY BETTER".
5.
A swig in the morning to combat the yawning and the pangs of clarity you predict will bring you sanity. It takes gallons of stamina to keep up the pace, to endure the misery you day to day face. There in lies the heart of your story, there's more value in decadence than in love, wealth or glory! The last drink you bought was your first, and even that came from your daddy's purse. And now you're hooked on the romance of the glamorous drunk, and you've no idea just how low you've sunk. You're the sediment of society, at right-angles to sobriety, with no means or method to fund your junk but your body and soul, any cretin can afford, with a price this low. So let the bottle slip from those delicate fingers, I'll lead you to a kiss that will enlighten and linger. Where you're headed you'll be deprived of the gutters and stars. The trouble with prison babe, is it has the wrong type of bars. The last drink you bought was your first, and even that came from your daddy's purse. And now you're hooked on the romance of the glamorous drunk, and you've no idea just how low you've sunk.
6.
No Tomorrow 02:53
So you say, there's nothing here to live for. Everyday I long to hear my name called. Even though I prepare the ground for words to leave you, still they don't tumble forth so freely. And you wish there was no tomorrow, and damn yourself to the heights of sorrow. There's no exception to your rule, I'm just another bloody fool. I exclaim at such a fine mess you keep. I'd clear it up if only you would let me sweep. You can hang your head, just let me tip it up at times, into my eyes tell me that you are mine. But you wish there was no tomorrow, and damn yourself to the heights of sorrow. There's no exception to your rule, I'm just another bloody fool. Hmmm. Now I wish there was no tomorrow. After you I'm compelled to follow. Now I wish there was no tomorrow. After you I'm compelled to follow. I don't understand a bit and here's testament to it.
7.
The snivelling remains of humanity, scooped up off the floor and served back to itself. Masticated already in preparation for the toothless masses of this dying nation. If this is civilisation I want no part in it. To think one can comprehend so little, yet live in such complexity is nothing short of a riddle. The deeply satisfying myth of progress, that faceless object that offers, divine purpose. If this is civilisation I want no part in it. Another day, another horror. No one seems remotely bothered. Sat there all day twiddling little machines, sucking on dicks of men they've never even seen. If this is civilisation I want no part in it. I would burn my right hand in a slow fire, to change the future before it expires. If this is civilisation I want no part in it. The division of labour has outsourced your mind, the spunk's gone dead you can't fuck for you lives. If this is civilisation I want no part in it.
8.
Oh the swelling, this unbearable dwelling. All these lights are an inferno, searing a path through my kernel. This homunculus is underseige from the petty need for speed. Talk of conspiracy, dismissed as heresy. Oh, give me give me give me detumescence. Oh oh. The most heinous violation of every child in the nation, but they craved it from conception, a monstrous unnatural selection. See them pawing at their switches like petrified ostriches. Marinetti would be proud yet all I can do is howl "Oh the horror! Yes, the horror. Oh, the horror". Give me give me give me detumescence. Welcome relief from this ape and essence, of man, that severed hand. That divine amputation with it's grand hallucinations of itself. Bipedals stand proud, on mother Earth. Frontal lobe aloud, in multi-cellular girth. Give me give me give me deutmescence. The path of least resistance, echoed in every instance of these glorified troglodytes, twiddling with their kilobytes. It's a detail we just can't pull off, so please please please just make it stop, the horror, yes the horror, oh the horror. Give me give me give me detumescence. Welcome relief from this ape and essence, of man, that severed hand. That divine amputation with it's grand hallucinations of itself. Bipedals stand proud, on mother Earth. Frontal lobe aloud, in multi-cellular girth. Give me give me give me detumescence. Welcome relief from this ape and essence, of man, that severed hand. That divine amputation with it's grand hallucinations of itself.
9.
Baby, you can tell me anything you like. It doesn't matter, we're strong right? Her confidence was the only thing on my side. The first thought you have is the longest to hide. This I ask of you: won't you let yourself out? Don't tell me how it came about, just get the light on the way out. 'Cause there's no need for that now. Let the shadows mute the howls. Baby, you can ask me anything you like, for yourself, but don't expect some reprise. The consequence of dark conspiracy, despite what you think does not depend on me. This I ask of you: won't you let yourself out? Don't tell me how it came about, just get the light on the way out. 'Cause there's no need for that now. Let the shadows mute the howls. This I ask of you: won't you get the hell out? Before I begin to howl. Before I begin to howl. Before I begin to howl. Before I begin to howl. Drink up, drink up, those tears of love, for all that is bitter can be considered enough.
10.
With St George's pigeons as my witness, on this bench I consume my last picnic. I've not got so far in this race, well give me a bottle of fire for my last embrace. It's been with me through the thick and through the thin. Oh why should it not be to what I cling? When you can't store and recall the best of your kisses...Love gives out in the last issues. What does one expect to find behind the final curtain but an old broom and pair of gloves? A private show, no admission. Including the ones, you've loved. Even if they were with you through the thick and through the thin. There's room for just one in this great transition. Despite all your efforts, they're superficial: Love gives out in the last issues. Love gives out in the last issues. Love gives out in the last issues. With St George's pigeons as my witness, on this bench I consume my last picnic. I've not got so far in this race, well give me a bottle of fire for my last embrace.

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released September 6, 2010

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Marmaduke Dando London, UK

Marmaduke Dando is the bard of disempire, a crooner of morose ballads and fiery diatribes, often eliciting references to The Bad Seeds, Roxy Music, and Scott Walker.

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