H.R. Porter

Särskilt raderna i svart då. Tack (?)

Lift off!

He worked hard all year,
just wanted a few weeks alone.
Well his old lady's into modeling
she can't get away from the phone.
Besides she bitches about the mosquitoes.
She says down there there is nothing to do.
Her god damn phone never stops ringing.
She'll try the service in a day maybe two.

Well he's on his third drink
before the wheels of the plane leave the ground.
Making points with the stewardess
high over Long Island Sound.
She's also spending some time on the island.
Too much city madness gives her the blues.
They make a date to go dancing and dining.
It seems neither has that much to lose.

The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful.
My thoughts aren't too clear, but don't run away.
My girlfiend's a bore, my job is too dutiful.
Hell, nobody's perfect would you like to play?
I feel together today.

Well now that's the just the start
of a well deserved over-due binge.
Meanwhile back in the city
certain people are starting to cringe.
His lawyers are calling his parents,
his girlfriend doesn't know what to think.
His partners are studing their options.
He's just singing and ordering drinks.

The weather is here, I wish you were beautiful.
The skies are too clear, life's so easy today.
The beer is too cold, the daquiri's too fruitiful.
There's no place like home when you're this far away,
I don't care what they say.

He's going back to New York,
pack it up and let everyone know.
It was something that he should have done
such a long time ago.
Still time to start a new life in the palm trees,
oh Billy Clyde wasn't insane.
And if it doesn't work out
there'll never be any doubt
that the pleasure was worth all the pain.

The weather is here I wish you were beautiful.
The skies are too clear, life's so easy today.
The beer is too cold, the daquiri's too fruitiful.
There's no place like home when you're this far away.

I need time for to play

When you're an outlaw you will have to learn to live on the margins of society. You taught me that, you sure did, and boy, you were right. I didn't truly believe or even understood your words until today. Today I know what it means being an outlaw, living on the margins of society; just like you said.

Outlaws are the only pure breed of beasts left; by choice as well as because of what people make us. Outlaws of old and of movies are romanticized but not the real ones. Fuck no, we will never antiheroes; we will never be worth of mention. We will be ridiculed, laughed at, amazed and made into geeks and freaks of nature.

Oh yes, you know when it hits you; that day when you finally understand that you're the freak everyone stays clear off. You're that Outlaw. An outlaw, outside society, looking in. I used to think that I was inside, most outlaws do at first, but then The Day comes. How many mothers have not cried hearing those words from their son or daughter; "ma, I think I'm an outlaw. A freak". It sure ain't easy to hear, many families have been broken apart that way.

How's that for sinister and dark stuff, ey? No better way to scare people off than by talking about broken families, tears and Freaks. I know how it works, I do it daily. But then again; I'm only another Freak in the Freak Kingdom. Where all are freaks the King-Freak rules.

I wonder where it all went wrong; that pivotal point in history when the wave broke and never kept rolling? Maybe scholars will know some day but I doubt it. When my name is written in to the great Book I will go down like one of the Immature Looser of our Time. But that is fine with me, we learn to accept our faith. Sink or swim, do or die.

Let them say that I knew nothing of my good side but that I fought to the end.