‘Where it Begins’ by Zoolon
A true story from yesterday. I was in the queue at the Post Office down town when the lady in front of me turned around to ask me if I had the time. It’s one of those loaded questions that can catch you out, so I played it safe and told her it was 3.24pm. She seemed good with that answer.
The problem was that she had bad breathe way beyond any bad breathe I’d ever smelt before. It was that bad I reckon she could strip paint. Really sickening bad breathe that made me urge – ‘urge’ being a word used a lot in Devon where I grew up. So uniquely horrible was her breathe that I figured she can’t be a regular human. Maybe an alien, or – a big ‘or’ I’ll admit – a superhero who’s special power was inflicting death by halitosis on enemies of the Universe. That was it, she’s a super hero called ‘Exhalation Girl’. Then it hit me. In my pocket I had some Mentos that might just help her cut back on the anti-social mouth pong. The random thought arrived that I should politely offer her one of my Mentos. Almost straight away, that random thought was overtaken by another. Was Mentos her equivalent of Kryptonite? Death of a superhero by mint? I never did find out. I bottled on the polite bit. There’s no polite way of telling a superhero her breathe chucks up. I’d hate to be Exhalation Girl’s dentist.
Anyway, words from a while back, still in verse form at the moment, now revisited for a new song I’m working on;
WHAT REMAINS
A song buzzing in my head
A melancholy ring
I know you’ll never listen out
For this pawn who would be king
I sense you couldn’t care less
But I’ll say it all the same
I’ll tell you what I’m thinking
‘Don’t hate the player; hate the game’
Yesterday, tomorrow
Lost and born again
Yesterday, tomorrow
Another tired refrain
I’ve seen the cat that got the cream
And the dogs who hunt in packs
Looks like you’ve got a Royal Flush
And me a pair of Jack’s
I don’t believe in miracles
I don’t believe in luck
Will stage fright grab a hold on me
Leaving me dumbstruck?
Yesterday, tomorrow
Things don’t look the same
Yesterday, tomorrow
There’s nothing to explain
I surrendered to a sleepless night
Waited for the dawn
A blackbird sung his first-light song
Told me you were gone
In the corridors of learning
I trod ancient cobblestones
My hiding place a shadow
You always knew I hunt alone
Yesterday, tomorrow
I count losses, you count gains
Today is not a great place
Today’s just what remains
Next an experimental sound manipulation I composed called ‘World of Shadows’ as a gentle (ish) conclusion to my ‘Liquid Truth’ album. I hope you enjoy;
I had always thought I had a seriously long name, but the master of ambient music beats me by miles. His name? Brian Peter George St John le Baptiste de la Salle Eno, RDI. You’re only going to do well in life or fail badly with a name like that – no in-betweens. It’s good he prefers to be known as just ‘Eno’ – a least he gave dyslexics like me a break.
A short, but excellent number from Eno called ‘By This River’.
Apart Eno’s song – Copyright © 2017 Zoolon Audio. All rights reserved. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.