Ididn'tgo.

Don't call them truth tellers
when they sell lies to the wide-eyed.

All i want to do is tell the world who i am
and everyday situations change who i am.

The timid and the proud got together
creating a man who's walking on the wrong side of a fine line.



Still,
they have me walking all the same-
charging through mistakes like a freight train.

lit-dim

we're pretty
when lit-dim
and I'm no more me
as they are them
every man in the room
bending heavy
and dignity is overrated
two rooms away
the floors light-up
but we see the light bulbs
and the colours
are from the seventies
in the films it was such a good idea
here it's figuring out the magic trick
when i was the kid i was the only one who noticed it
and now things have changed,
but mainly the shirts and drinks
he she he she he he he he she he
got together, and decided to create
i wasn't invited, and i came anyway
and decided to call them all fake.
Truth is I'm no more me
as they, dude,
we're just a few
shots from the blues
trying hard to impress the chosen few
who are no more them
as you are you.
but that's the idea, right?
since fifteen you've stalked me
like a boo i look over and think
i didn't see you now look like
you didn't look at me seeing you
or, i don't know, it always leaves me confused
how the most simple make my head spin.
the explanation is never that easy, you see,
I haven't always been me
and i assume you haven't always
been what I now see.
I'm still the same
I just changed with the times.
And if i want to keep up
and begin to enjoy myself
it looks like I'll have to do it again.
Because believe it or not,
sometimes dancing is more fun alone.

Lions den.

When overselling good jokes
more laughs come off-from your cuff.
Every week it's the same stuff
It's always too soon for sweet steve
a "first time", "new stuff"
It always changes, and is always the same,
like time, depending on the performer
five minutes can last forever
a lot of jokes about madeline mccain
a lot of legends names have been spoken
in vein, rape, racism- it's all fair game
to stand out in a quest for fame

"check my profile pic- I held a microphone
because otherwise the people at the back
wouldn't of been able to hear what i say,
see, i talked with wit and they listened AND laughed"
For many this proof in a profile picture is enough.

I pay the four pounds
in the hope that one day
I'll be worth a lot more:
In this room right now
there are a few superstars
restlessly, reluctantly
waiting in line for others stars to align

When we'll look with anxious hope
that our name comes out a golden envelope
instead of a worn-out jesters hat
coming in late, because you just came from another gig
going on. killing it, then leaving right after you finish.
(oooooh that's smooth)
When your heroes have heard of you
and misguided comics try to be you
feel like telling them what they should know:
Humour comes from uncovering honesty
it always inspires me
when i see a comedian
who's more themselves than i am me

When I've trained to the point it's like i never trained at all
and i move too quick for stubborn women to act cool
doing the same thing, but not seeing any weak acts
and doing longer sets, being paid, and feeling dishonest
when doing old jokes about not having enough sex
"hey, remember when we paid to do five minutes"
in five years we'll be in every glossy-mags top ten best list
maybe when i reach that point i'll consider taking a rest
until then, you can find me at the lions den.

humour helps.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEv4SslAo-w

lightbolted thunderfeet.

she only comes in your life once

has a tendency to leave jaws on floors

and swing open your mind like saloon doors

got that, thing about her, that after meeting

you can't stop thinking about her

she carried figure eights in whatever she wore

and all the dudes kept a score, knew it too

hard to get but you couldn't complain

when she replied to the stares with a smile

in countless notebooks and blog-posts i tell her

If i could take a while,

and become the tide that strokes your legs

the wet sand nestled in between your toes

enter your mind like the finest prose

or talk on the other side of your phone

i'd be the happiest soul you could know

I'll maybe figure out how she got me alone

then she says "I, liked what you wrote

but forget what you thought,

you think too big, for now lets just talk"

so we smoke and we drink

and we talk and we think

and we laugh on the brink

when we touch we go deep

and it keeps us from sleep

and did so for weeks

and weeks turned to months

and the love didn't last

but i am thankful for what was

because I met a once in a lifetime girl

and though now cold, i know the difference

between a thunderbolt and a street-light

I wont accept any relationship less,

i live for the storm, it's why i run in the night.

my thunderbolt will come

my thunderbolt will come

light-footed i run

light-footed i run

if the light i never see

at least the dark saw the best of me

at least the darkness saw the best of me

the money is all, the love is a plus

the food is great, and attention is a must

i don't work when tired, i've tried

but i've never been tired of the work

if anything it awakens my inner voice

and adds weight to my inner worth

you're not alive until you find your purpose

and you could end this right there

there's not much else i could say

you've got to seize the day, every day

perfect your craft until your work is considered art

it's what makes my heart beat strong

my palms warm, my mind sharp

and my skin kevlar-hard

if you've seen it all before you've seen too much

it turns out you're using your habitat as a crutch

you've got to be willing to take a couple of blows

if you want to be touched

because life gets tough after love leaves you soft
If you want to be ready for the looming thunderbolt

learn to make winter coat from your dog-eared cloth

and you'll be warm enough come next years frost

my thunderbolt will come

my thunder bolt will come

Light-footed I run

Light-footed I run

if that light i never see

at least the dark saw the best of me

the darkness got the best of me

Whether a girl or a career

i often feel lost in the dark

and when most vulnerable

i can be lured by the pass of a blunt

or to mimic someone else's spark

or put my effort into providing a girls wants

but honestly i know my thunderbolt will come

it will shake me, enlighten me

and i guarantee i'll become the sight to see

and god forbid, if it doesn't, honestly

there's nothing else i'd rather be doing

i don't know what to tell her

it's not so much the thunderbolt i live for

but the better me i know i can be,

and will keep up the chase till my legs give way.

never will, fingers crossed.

still, fearless,
never will
never was
fingers crossed
i harvest all
held hearts
hold out for
cheap thrills
still, fearless
never will
never was
because
i always
recognise the cost
but protected with fists
higher than the shoulder
the day I don't fear death
is the day I'll fear life.
probably, then again,
I (humbly) confess,
I've never been fearless.

come on, MOST of them now

tweeting sure is fun when you're alone and have work to do and putting it off and it's friday night watching youtube and TWEETING IS FUN!


http://twitter.com/#!/seanysense

No one knows.

no one knows me quite like you do
no one can piss me off quite like you can
understand my flaws, step on them
and pick me apart just to stop my starts
quite like you can.
No one could tease and lead me on
for as long as you could
no one else sees me rotten
and then feels so good
quite like you could, but
no one broke your heart
quite like i did.

face value.

honestly honesty is barely worth our thoughts
not when the reality isn't what we bought into
dream keeps a kid in place without going insane
the scheme for a better life boils in her brain
knowing once it's in play nothing will be the same
so she lets another day slide, another breath in
before the beginning of the ride. before she turns the tide
-1. 2-
honestly honesty is barely worth the thought
lie to the truth we accidently bought into
whisper sweet nothings into it's ear
that you'll never leave and always be near
while you secretly plot and scheme
quietly leaving work early to work on your dream
hearing friends tell you the same old thing
but it's all good in the hood.
wink and smile and, still look good?
damn straight.

inside whores.... minds

Every week our boy gets a lay

different girl but always at hers

so he never feels obliged to stay

shouldn't hug nor kiss nor say

he'll see her again but he does

it's not a lie at the time, but in time

that promise fades, dies and becomes reborn

birthed from his own lips, cradled in another's eyes

... ("maybe he's not like the other guys"

and he's not but he's got to go)

waiting for the phone to ring and when it does

annoyed that it isn't him, he'd hate that-

if the roles where reversed

so maybe that's why he does it to them first

get running before it ends in hurt.

and before he begins to regret what he's said

he's- too busty chatting up a girl he's just met

bicycles and spaceships

she gives promises of change on a regular basis
a sample, a loop, always the same old soul song
the beat goes on credits due she raps with conviction
the weight in her chest reminds her it's all be said before
but refuses to hop on any ride whether it bike or spaceship
rather walk alone, she can only trust her own feet
too often she's taken too far in the passenger seat
she lives near the sea, it's not where she wants to be
but it'll do for now,a place where she can figure things out
she can learn how the tide turns, by watching the tide turn
we've all been burned but it varies by the degree
because it's rarely what you see, but how you see it
where some see fun she sees time wasted
so drinks till she's wasted because it's hard to face it
and whenever she sobers up she promises change
on a regular basis i smile, she'll grow up in her own time
she wins academy awards in her own mind
at the parties she should be, with those dancing in celebration
not as a masquerade of talent with a front of pretension
no confusion between loving yourself and creative masturbation
honestly, you don't copy the academy, you learn from them
she'll do fine in time, just don't promise change.
Stay the same.

Red

I make the best of what i have
if i had your back,
i could make things better.
Plied with red wine,
it's outlined on your lips.
I wanted to try hard,
but on a night like this
where every conversation
has become awkward-
stepping up small-talk
as the las call looms
Your dress
is the only thing that fits.
I'm on the brink of friendships
and I'm ruining it for this
this red hard pressed to forget
on her lips on my neck in the back
of the bar it's usually three dates
to connect we've only just met
a party of mutual friends
I've known for months
judge.
We'll say we regret this
when they tell us
And we'll talk about how drunk
and stupid it was
the next day.
But right now,
that's hours away.

What i remember, from memory.

Clear lense, squished from car tyre snow,

Grey hat.

Red coat, lumberjack black squares

collar popped.

mid shot(. Angle.) Small face, big eyes

wearing the smirk that births the

smile that shows the,

teeth that look that,

brings me to my knees
but if it is snowing you
wouldn't notice.

Not in this moment, walking forward,

eye contact with a lense. Blue scarf

scaffolding to the left, where untouched

whiteness rests. thick eyebrows, brown eyes:

Wolflike. Eye contact with a smile.

brown eyes, big enough to engulf

turn, you think you know the street

All we really know is she's fashionable, has

a thin frame padded for the cold with cool clothes

walking along a well travelled, worked-on road,

is taking a moment to turn while trudging through snow

and is in love with whoever is taking her photo.

brooklyn's september.

in a world where every player is a boss
and all marriages end in divorce
and you don't really have drive
unless you drive a porsche
of course
it's easy to feel when you stand out
you come up short
so many fights i've fought
so many times i've lost
too proud to ask when it'll stop
too foolish to know what
I'm even giving my all for.
The love of a woman
The respect from a crowd
The acceptance of nay-sayers
my hands are often clasped together
in the hope i'll think of a decent prayer
one day i'll strive to be something better
because all i want is
the acceptance from nay-sayers
the respect of a bunch of clappers
The legs of Jasmine Kara
It's been a year and i still love her
from across new york,
they'd save up money to see her
by day lap-dancer at night soul singer
never a day she didn't have her shit together
small in height, but filled out just right
her beauty came from her love for life
she had nyc tattooed on her neck
we watched friends on her laptop
snuggled together on her single bed
never have i had so much respect for a person i had just met
she sung to let out the pain, it was never about fame
it's been a year now and i don't see things the same
i see every player trying to be a boss
but they never know what to be a boss of,
soul singers singing porcelain songs, hollow with no gospel
i see people dying to drive a porsche with nowhere to drive to
i stop relationships before they start because i've been so tainted
from the knowledge that they all seem to run the same course
it's a world where no one does what they do for love
it's a reality game show for who's the biggest pretender
and every artist wants to shout on how they're "not"
how they're "real" but still secretly hoping their reality
will actually take them to the top.
it's enough to make a talented artist want to stop.

thank god I'm not going to.
these thoughts will be sold
babyface eyes with an old soul
in a search to grow so i'll no longer come up feeling short
one day i'll make enough money to say "next stop, new york."