52. Bubbles and smoke.(October 2014)

Approaching the end of the year and in sight of being able to chalk up the whole year with neither beer nor cigarettes. This is one of the earliest pieces I did, maybe even the first, where it felt like I was finding my own voice instead of having to try to manufacture something in the style I imagined it should be.

I’m not sure what the geometry references are doing in the outtakes. Goes to show I guess, dribbling shite doesn’t have to involve booze, some of us are just naturally gifted.

52. Bubbles and smoke.(October 2014)

I fell on my arse,
When I fell outta the bottom of a glass,
But I’m learning to stand,
And breathe on my own again,

I’m leaving two demons,
Though this songs not about preaching,
It’s about standing and reaching,
And about being alone again,
This isn’t self-pity,
Oh no, no, no,
This isn’t wallowing in self-doubt,
It’s doubt that comes from breaking out,
Seeing the world through the eyes your mother gave you,
Not the eyes of the demons that’ve ridden you,

It’s not like a doctor told me,
“Take another drop”,
“You’ll drop”,
“Down dead”,
“Your name ain’t Lazarus”,
“Heed what I said”,
“Your health warnings expired”,
“And you can’t stop the reaper”,
“With a bad mood”,
“Just because, you’re sat in the Black Bull getting wired”,

A moment just came when it all coalesced,
And I didn’t want more,
In fact I just wanted less,
Less of the mess….inside and out.
Less of the bubbles and smoke,
Less of the doubt,
Less of the pain in the morning,
Less of the chasing it again in the evening,
Inside and then out,
The same fate met both bubbles and smoke,

Bubbles and smoke,
Inside and out,
Chasing each other around,
Inside and out,
Bubbles and smoke,
Bubbles and smoke,
And with luck,
Good riddance,
Smoke and bubbles,
Bubbles and smoke.

(c) Jim Laing 2014.


And what the circles mean to you they don’t mean to me,
I just wanted to see,
Some geometry in a song,
Honest I did,
Honest I did,
Why can’t we mix more music with Euclid,
Come listen with me to the Pythagoras 3 and

And ooh, ooh,
The circles I never knew were broken,
The circles that were,
I never knew broken,
Some have to stay unspoken,
There’s a difference you know,
One is being a dick,
One is how I used to mope,
And this one’s just here for the pedants out there,
I’ve spent a lifetime in thrall
At your beck and call
Held away deep inside,
Your glass reinforced liquid walls.

God help me make it through another day,
Help me as I wish my life away.
And make believe I’m not really a slave,
That I win by going straight out to play,

About Jim Laing

The Buddha said there were four kinds of people. Those who run from dark to dark, those who run from light to dark, those who run from dark to light and those who run from light to light. From a life going from dark to dark to having a few years running from dark to light, with scuffed hands and knees from sometimes falling, I may be getting the hang of it now. How it began is not now how it is, I need a quiet space, After the noise of the day, So I take sanctuary in the creativity, And my soul feeds, On sometimes dark, Sometimes light fantasy, And I dare like many to work, But stay up off my knees, To dream, perchance to suffer, But always still to dream. Here are things mostly lyrical and poetic, with nonsense sometimes, reviews and personal musings. The coffees hot and always black. The words not necessarily so.
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