Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Bow in reverence to the Koza

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The distinguished Koza, third imperial ruler of Poland.

Misanthropy Thread #2

This ones in time to Morning Has Broken - that fine hymn- and contains some obscure, though fascinating references that may be tracked via complex signals and signs in a kind of 'Da Vinci code' type manner in the Sunday supplement magazine adverts for lifelike dolls and plates with pictures of Native American chiefs on called 'Spirit of the Breath of the Howling Wolf of Time' - or somesuch. Good luck on your quest...

The Centaurs are here, they are everywhere and they run our world. This is their song.

Centaurs awaken, Centaurs of London
Prepare for the journey, onward we march
Stick out your arse cheeks, stick out your headsets
Let everyone know what an arsehole you are

Marching together, a flotsam of losers
Centaurs are trotting, millions strong
Arses like sofas, manners like goats they
Chatter and scoff like the insects they are

Mine is the Centaur, mine is the Lemming
Born of the skunks arse out from the beak
Snorting their powder, flashing their plastic
These jokers need culling, pass me the sword.

Koza - Looking relaxed on a recent state visit

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Misanthropy thread #1

London's new work song - To the tune of When I'm 64.

Dressed in a suit and holding a flag
Humming corporate tunes
We march every morning to the beat of the drums
With a raft of jokers under company thumbs

Blindly we troop like we're already dead
Jostling for space
Last night's television fresh in our minds
Arse's sticking out like centaurs behinds

Chattering madly to no-one at all
On our little head-sets
Laughing in public like bleating lambs
Hanging in the tube like sides of ham

You will know us when we march on
To our destiny
Squeaking like lemmings as we jump as one
Over the edge to kingdom come

We are the flotsam, we are the jetsam
Push us if you can, oh yeah
We are the flotsam, we are the jetsam
Push us if you can.