Mel From Melbourne - Music & Words

  Trying to write out my pain   Trying to write out my pain At least at last there’s some rain I try to mouth in green But colours are too pantone I try to nose in tea with honey But there’s chocolate inside my cup I left out food for the birds They help but I can’t really receive I started off writing self consciously With fixed rhymes But I don’t like it anymore It feel stilted & old hatted Or maybe my internal rhythm Is more instinctive like bebop But I ache so I don’t want a constant rhythm in this Rhythms move in different tempos & time signatures Like waves in the air I feel in danger of drowning In them It’s just me here & actually that’s good It’s up to me to get myself out of this hole The hole I’ve been in all my life & the hole that’s in me I have a friend who reckons It’s not that I’m lonely I just need to get laid I’m not so sure I mean yes sex is a basic need But companionship is cruc...

  Sic Kunt before the Apocalypse   I made an innocent/ignorant prayer back in 2007, when I was living in Lewisham, London, at the time, (before gentrification), the highest murder rate in the UK, but also home to an amazing rich multicultural community that was closer than a small town, pilloried & unresourced, where people had each other’s back. The killings were inevitably gang related, young people growing up too fast & getting sucked into crime, because the minimum wage of 5 pounds 50 an hour, people mired in wage slavery, frankly crime looked like a better option).   Anyway my ignorant prayer, Burnt badly by a relationship break down Seeking men who could teach how to be a man A way Australian society doesn’t Jamaicans, Algerians, Ghanaians & Nigerians, Was “introduce me to the wisest man in town Coz I’m drowning”   Unexpectedly to me at the time A Goddess took pity & introduced me to the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met I’ll omit her name Tho...