Drowsy Drivers

{audio}mp3/lfhots/12 fantastic.mp3{/audio}

Isn’t it good to be in Melbourne when October comes along?
Look at the river, she’s so beautifully brown
Now the city changes gears
Sam Newman disappears and the Spiegeltent comes a-rollin’ into town
I don’t believe in any mystic power governing the tent
I think it depends upon the love you bring inside
I only know that when I take my seat
My skin will prickle and my heart will skip a beat:

‘Cos everybody wants to get a taste of the fantastic
Everybody wants to find a place to make believe
You don’t ever have to make a case for the fantastic
You need nothing up your sleeve to cast that spell of joie de vivre
Never been a better way to conjure up that magic
Than gettin’ it together in the Spiegeltent at night
Forget your blues and get enthusiastic – fantastic to see the light!

Let me tell ya ‘bout a couple I knew who had a house in Clayton close to Centre Rd
Livin’ a life that was suburban to the bone
Overnight they changed their fate
They seceded from the state, and now they wander around in a republic of their own
I don’t believe that any country’s worse or better in itself
I think it depends upon the love you feel inside
They go through Customs for a loaf of bread
But still they don’t regret a single thing they said:

‘Cos everybody wants to get a taste of the fantastic
Everybody wants to find a space to trip the light
Never any slippin’ the embrace of the fantastic
‘Cos it’ll grip your psyche tight, and send you spinnin’ through the night
So their definition of veracity’s elastic
I’m sure they wouldn’t know of any other way to be
Forget your truths and get enthusiastic – the fantastic will set you free!

Oh, the truth may be ringing but no-one should answer the call
It teases and tempts us to fence in our senses and curl ourselves into a ball
But no, no matter our standing we’ve got to keep moving ahead
The fight may be bruising, but snoozing is losing
Remember what Joe Camilleri said?
He said you gotta keep a-puttin’ a boot in, a-runnin’, a-hidin’,
‘Cos it’s gonna get you
You gotta keep a one-step, a two-step, a quick step, a thick step,
Or it’s gonna get you, you got to hit and run
You got to hit and run…

Fantastic!

‘Cos everybody wants to get a taste of the fantastic
Everybody wants to find a place to make believe
You don’t ever have to make a case for the fantastic
You need nothing up your sleeve to cast that spell of joie de vivre
Never been a better way to conjure up that magic
Than gettin’ it together in the Spiegeltent at night
Forget your blues and get enthusiastic – fantastic to see the light!

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{audio}mp3/lfhots/11 the reviver.mp3{/audio}

Look at this funky space, it’s such a pretty place
I wanna snap it up and wrap it in a carny embrace
I wanna take the reins so we can use our brains
And maybe shoot a little booty through her beautiful veins

I came here to play on the piano
Now I’m a man overcome
Just when you least expect her to deliver
Destiny gives you the drum

My name is David Bates, and if you’re playin’ dates
You can employ me to perform them at negotiable rates
But now I can’t rewind, ‘cos I’ve been redefined
This glorious ciborium is blowin’ my mind

You think I’m a powerless musician
I guess my mission is clear
Pack this down and can it, ship it ‘round the planet
I got a brand new career:

I’m the reviver
Bringin’ a deep soul kiss of life
Bringin’ an end to pain and strife
Shinin’ the way
I’m the reviver
And if you abide by this abode
Then you got to get your flow on
Let’s get this show on the road.

See, in the midst of storm, which is the British norm,
We’ll sail it to Australia where it’s sunny and warm
And when the season ends and there’s no future tense
We’ll ride it back to Blighty for the summer events

I swear I can hear the crowd applauding
Numbers have accordingly grown
Find me a civilian to loan me half a million
To make this pavilion my own…

I’m the reviver
Bringin’ a deep soul kiss of life
Bringin’ an end to pain and strife
Shinin’ the way
I’m the reviver
Building a family of friends
Sparing no reasonable expense
Makin’ the play
I’m the reviver
So if you would dare to share this load
Then you got to get your flow on –
Let’s get this show on the road.

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{audio}mp3/lfhots/10 come around.mp3{/audio}

I know how you feel, man
You’re down to a crawl
You feel like cashin’ in all your chips
But this is the deal, man
The world is a ball
You got to cop the occasional eclipse

The darkness is scary
But it’s just temporary
I hope that you hunger to soak up the sun
‘cos it won’t be long until it’s

Come around, come around
In time you’ll feel her fire climbin’ to a higher ground
It may seem like the end of days
But it’s only a solar phase
Come around, come around, come around.

You fall out of favour
And one day you find
They don’t even know you’ve gone to sleep
You’re yesterday’s flavour
Then you’re beggared and blind
Then you’re stuck in a bed with a tiny machine going “beep… beep… beep… beep…”

Total aphasia
We should euthanase ya!
But only a mug’d be tuggin’ that plug
‘Cos it won’t be long until you

Come around, come around
When they resuscitate ya – then they’re gonna make ya renowned:
You’re the Man That Came Out Of The Cold!
In the Tent That Refused To Fold!
Come around, come around, come around.

Listen up, Michael
It’s all part of the cycle
Lovin’ the throng when they say you belong
But you’ve got to be strong when they give you the gong
And they’ll see that they’re wrong by the strength of your song
And it won’t be long until they

Come around, come around
Yeah, you might well flounder but baby you’re bound to rebound
So call up everybody you know
And tell ‘em “It’s a hell of a show!
Come around, come around, come around.”

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There used to be a python-charming diva
By name of Leila Montesano-Jones
She laughed and cried on cue
With eyes of cobalt blue
And the circus through her bones

Leila left a lover and believer
In ev’ry country fair and seaside town
‘Til the serpent took its toll
And it crawled into her soul
And the poison pulled her down

Down to the dregs
The end of every glass
She was branded and abandoned
At a pretty pass
Down to the dregs
The barley and the maize
And she drank the living nightmares
Of her dying days

It’s not my job to shed a tear for Leila
I poured the drink and never questioned why
Though her face was lined with pain
From the grinding of the grain
She would always drain it dry

At night I hear her shouting out an order
For all the wayward spirits in her keep
And they join her in lament
For our feeble Spiegeltent
On her slow descent to sleep

Down to the dregs
The daze of the decayed
The indentured and the wretched
Who refuse to fade
Down to the dregs
Our vessel runs aground
At the bottom of the barrel
Where the rats lie drowned

Down to the dregs
That’s where we can be found
At the bottom of the barrel
Where the rats lie drowned.

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{audio}mp3/lfhots/08 mister sandman.mp3{/audio}

Just because the bombs stopped falling
Doesn’t mean it’s under control
If you’re gonna call it peacetime
Shouldn’t I be out of this hole?
I can wear a smile with the best of them,
keep abreast of them, I’m okay
The bristling bark of my day
is keeping the darkness at bay

But Mister Sandman brings me to tears
Spends every evening parading my fears
Fills every pillow and sheet with my sweat
Bathes in the moments I long to forget
Mister Sandman, give it a rest
Don’t make me wake up so cold and distressed
I don’t want to dream anymore

I carved out a career of dangers
I made a trade of slipping the noose
Laughing at suburban strangers
Dishing out abuse, flapping ‘round loose
Now my soul is sore with the battleground
Now I rattle ‘round, down at heel
Illusion has lost its appeal
I truss myself up to the real

But Mister Sandman brings me undone
Calls off the ceasefire before it’s begun
Takes those emotions that are better denied
Shakes my foundations ‘til I can’t help but slide
Mister Sandman, bury my head
I draw the line at your disaster and dread
I don’t want to dream
I don’t want to dream
I don’t want to dream anymore.

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{audio}mp3/lfhots/07 escape.mp3{/audio}

They say at times the Earth’s inclined
more sharply on its axis
And that the moon controls our minds
by how it wanes and waxes
They say we’re all in helpless thrall
to planetary forces
that leave us locked into an orbit
of involuntary courses

But we wait another year
and each fatalistic fear
Is replaced by something new
Just as palpably untrue
So it’s comforting to know
You can celebrate the show
We can still find a way to escape

They say the military march
is getting ever louder
and that there’s never been a better
time to take a powder
that ev’ry crystal night is passing
closer to the awning
and an amusement park of glass
should harken to the warning

And we’ve taken it as read
that insanity would spread
Though it creeps in much too soon
we shall somehow prove immune
Let them come and lay their siege
We can scamper out of reach
We can still find a way to escape

Now for a time we may not be
the happiest of campers:
it takes a blind man not to see
the writing on the canvas.
But until each rope and beam
and mirror here is broken
I can be safe inside my dream -
and not to be awoken!

Ev’ry citizen or slave
Gravitating to the grave
Says my fantasy is through -
I reject their point of view!
I will never live and learn!
Let me fiddle while I burn!
We can still find a way (one more week, one more day)
We can still find…

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{audio}mp3/lfhots/06 underneath.mp3{/audio}

it might seem to you
the heady taste of sin
has wounded me
has caved my spirit in
but you can please yourself
I might be indiscreet
but when I squeeze myself
I swear the juice is sweet

it might seem to you
that something’s gone awry
and I feel it too
I couldn’t tell you why

but when the spotlight throws my shadow
it’s a powerful relief

now the party’s still a party, but something’s sour underneath

so it seems to me
Cassandra told no lies:
Call it lunacy
but don’t call me surprised
if the road we’re on
should somehow shift and crack
’til the path is gone
and none can bring it back

and on the blood-soaked ground a third of you are dying
and in some cold compound a third of you are dead
and I wish this vicious vision was all stupid superstition
but I can’t get it out of my head

so it seems to me
for what my word is worth
keep the exits free
and an ear down to the earth

and when the heels are swinging smartly
in obeisance to the chief

you should listen for the murmur of something cracking underneath

you can count the stars
as one by one they die
so it seems to me
that heaven is a lie

and I know everyone’s entitled
to the strength of their belief

so you can plan your grand ascension, and I’ll meet you underneath.

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{audio}mp3/lfhots/05 swing.mp3{/audio}

Johnny was a wonderful swimmer
Then he caught a glimmer
Of something he wanted more
A medal of a different colour
So Mister Weismuller
Struck out for a distant shore.

He went to Hollywood – so hard to succeed –
But if he’d been too timid to jump in and swim
he’d have never got out in the lead…
They told him a turn was a tumble,
Now Johnny’s a jungle king!
Put it all on the line, grab hold of the vine and swing!

People are not always so clever –
out of fear of the ‘whether’,
they tether themselves to cement.
People – you may find yourselves hurtin’ –
disconcertingly certain,
and certainly discontent.

Your head gets heavier with dread and despair.
Life is more splendid with worry suspended
on everything up in the air…
Gravity grabs at the ankles
Of the wickedest witch on the wing,
If you’d try to defy it and fly way up high, just swing!

You got to surrender some
To the end of the pendulum
You got to let it flow
Lock on to a perfect pitch
At the end of a rolling hitch
And don’t you ever let go…

Of course it’s dangerous – so easy to fall –
But if the route you’re pursuin’ can’t lead to your ruin
It’s hardly worth doin’ at all…
Chance is where the heart of romance is
The fortune that fortune can bring
Hook the trapeze up under your knees, and swing!

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{audio}mp3/lfhots/04 show don’t tell.mp3{/audio}

When I was just a nipper in Mulhausen
I found it hard to get to sleep at night
A shepherd to a flock of fifty thousand
For all the tales my mother would recite
I know she had the very best intentions
But bad is bad no matter how it’s meant
So one night I said “Mutter, seems it falls to me to utter
the fundamental principle of narrative intent…”

Show. Don’t. Tell.
Leave everything implied to be inferred.
Show. Don’t. Tell.
The action should be louder than the word.
Strip the story down to its essentials.
Twice as long will serve us half as well.
A basic illustration is the way. to. go.
Show. Don’t tell.

In Venice they say young love is the hardest
To me it seemed adventurous and fresh
I made myself the tortured starving artist
And gorged myself on pleasures of the flesh
I must have been a third-rate Valentino
Dispensing each pasticcio of praise
Until one day a lover said “I dare you to uncover
“your deepest darkest secrets to my penetrating gaze?”

“Show. Don’t. Tell. You’ve got to put your body on the line.
“Show. Don’t. Tell. You shouldn’t take the label for the wine.
“You’re happy promulgating at a snail’s pace.
“I’m waiting for a glimpse beneath the shell.
“If you’re bidden to the hidden then it’s quid. pro. quo. Show. Don’t tell.”

But if life were just a cabaret extended
Then what would be the point of cabaret?
The day is where our efforts are expended
The night is for escaping from the day
In Budapest a man was born who knew it
Originally known as Erick Weiss
And on the day Houdini died I heard his distant voice inside
A soft sepulchral whisper of solicitous advice:

Show. Don’t. Tell. The wide of eye prefer the sleight of hand.
Show. Don’t. Tell. The less they know, the more they’ll understand.
Magic is as valuable as starlight,
until a foolish braggart breaks the spell.
If a mister missed the twist, let the mystery persist,
for a sweet poetics needs aesthetic distance to exist.
Don’t accede to every plead and feed their need to know:
Show. Don’t. Tell.

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