words that turn into tiny stories…
The body shop
…it was when we travelled. I remember it well. Well, most of it anyways. It was as if there would be no end to our travels. Endless deserted roads stretched ahead of us, while we zoomed our way into oblivion. The trees had lost their leaves by then and we all seemed affected by their apparent loneliness. There were laughs of course. Plenty of them. We seemed to crack joke after joke. Then we fell silent and immersed ourselves again in the landscape. Our driver seemed to know his way around better than anyone of us, even if he too frowned at signs on the road with odd names. We dined at lonely highway restaurants and experienced the ring of fire. Temporary friends came and went. You can join us, if you’re into that sort of thing she said and we did not know where to look. People would come up to see us and smiled. We smiled back politely and spoke in tongues. Blue turned into yellow and we all laughed. We had no idea where we would sleep or under what circumstances. Not that it mattered; we were so exhausted we slept anyways. Once we shook in our sleep and scared our friends. Then we got in the car again and drove and drove endlessly until we blended perfectly into wintertime…
Last night I turned into a cat
Last night I turned into a cat. Just like that. Stranger things happened before, but nothing quite like that. I’m confused to say the least. Have I turned into a beast? I got scratches on my back!
The maypole song
Mmmmm, what do you see – around and around? Pretty polka dot petticoats up and trousers down! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven – all good children go to heaven!
There’s a story ‘bout me now, it’s not what you see no, it’s right inside me. It’s too good to be true now, so what about you, won’t you love to see? Mmmmm. I’m connected to you now, and I’ll pull you through ‘cause that’s what I do. It’s too good to be true now, so what about you, won’t you love to see? Mmmmm, the honeythief!
Scars on a Windowpane
Rain in may. One sunny day got washed away. A future lie expressed side by side. I laughed, you cried. Everything seemed dry, even my cheeks you wiped (so carefully!).
Adelaide crossed the barricades that rose in the square. She dared while villagers crossed fingers. Left a thousand dreams behind, hoping for a place to find all that ever mattered. And we were really flattered just to see all her dreams shattered! I fear Man has gone insane, again.
Stephanus the Sixth: wrapped him up real tight. Sealed him with a kiss, threw him in the night. The Tiber will follow, the Tiber will heal. When you kiss a thief, you better count your teeth! Raw meat, raw meat: ready for the butcher. Make it into packages then send if off to Poland. The Tiber will follow, the Tiber will heal. When you kiss a thief, you better count your teeth!
Another Truth From Wisdom City
It’s hard to wake up when all you learned was how to dream. It’s really hard to learn the lessons of life it seems. But all the things I searched for are written in your eyes to my surprise.
War (We’re All Water Babies)
Lying in her bedroom with her shades on and her gloves another issue – another tissue. The TV’s on; your programme for tonight a game show – your host is Robin and he’s alright (he’s brushed his teeth!). There’s a war outside my window and I’m lying in my bed nothing that I should have said would have made a difference. Because – do you care if I was right and you were left and I was black and you were white? Somehow I doubt that.
Marias of the sea
Three of them were in a boat, the sea was pretty rough. And though the pretty maiden’s minds were tough, they were cast afloat and lost. But they had to go where waves were high and storms were shouting boo!, and sharks were grinning in their fists humming things like Come with me Maria, Dive with me Maria, Dine with me Maria – Maria of the sea.
Rupert writes a rainbow
Rupert writes a rainbow with his finger in the sky. Surprised to find all the children looking for the gold. Rupert writes a rainbow with his finger in the sky. Spreads van ist naar soll, it’s a blessing in disguise. Rupert writes a rainbow with his finger in the sky. Rupert writes a rainbow, gently waves it in the sky. Rupert writes a rainbow with his finger in the sky. Rupert writes a rainbow, but it never answered the question why Rupert writes a rainbow.
Sheep, sheep. Sad sheep. There is a storm and you cannot sleep. Hide, hide. Hide away. Gonna find you a safe place where you can play.
This is like you’re floating out of reach. I’m on tiptoes. On the wire it requires. Staler and staler the air. Please, please breathe in the air.
I’m on a ride on my little white bike. I’m on a ride on my little white bike. I’m on an everlasting ride. And I don’t know if I’m ever coming home.
I wrote these words yesterday, but I am someone else today. I wonder what’s behind the door, wondering what life is for. And I would like to make it clear I am not exactly here. I am somewhere else today and maybe I’ll meet you someday. Someday today. Please excuse me for these words. I’m not quite certain what they are for. And if they mean the same to you as they mean to me. But I’m just trying to make some sense, breaking down some defences. This might be my lucky day and maybe I’ll meet you someday. Someday today.
You are my sleeper. Your sleep is deep. Deeper than the deepest sea.
The bookcatcher’s song
Tick tock it is o’clock. The bookcatcher catches the books the wind blew from the shop. Catch me, I’m falling down. Hold me in your strong arms before the books hit the ground.