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HEY HEY GOTH GIRLS, ONLY WANNA GET YOU HIGH, by Na-Na, August 01
(with no apologies to John Wesley Harding)

Here she comes, and you can't believe your eyes
And you're right, she's the hottest chick I know
But I've gotta find that out by myself

And here she comes, and you still can't quite believe
That I've got that thing for that old friend of ours
As I tell you I've gotta find out for myself

There she goes, and the night is still but young
But I've drunk myself undone
Trying to make it all work out for everyone
Beer was the answer, and winner, again

And here I am, starting to know what you said was true
Not that I'll ever admit it to you

Cause Goth Girl was the one
You were right all along
And you can go fuck yourself
Cause I never knew you knew full well

Goth Girl, I love to see you in the summer
When you're wondering if it's still a good thing
Goth Girl, don't change one little bit
Melt in my mouth, I wanna kiss that lipstick
'til it runs down upon your nipple ring

I don't know where to start with you
I've got your number in my phone
I gotta think of a line

Well here you come, and I still can't quite conceive
Why you're talking to an indie rock folk punk drunk cunt like me
As I tell myself I'm still out of the race

Here she comes, and her keys are locked inside the car
Her flatmates are all at Mardis Gras
Trying to make it work out for everyone
Blither was the winner, and the answer, again

And here I am, trying to think of a line
Not that it'll ever work on you
Goth Girl, it's good to see you
Without that fucking boy, walking tattoo

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I was trying to make sense
Of the week that just went
When we stopped at a Coffs truckie diner
And we strolled in she said she needed a gin
All they could offer was a burger

We drove away with chips and a shake
As all their eyes watched us go
At 3am the only sound was classic hits radio

A song came on so we sang along
To Beatles and Beach Boys and Bruce
She knew all the words to Little Girl I wanna Marry You

And then some fuckhead DJ started playing Running On Empty
I knew how much she hates Jackson Brown
So we both yelled abuse at Kempsey

And I always figured I'd rue the day I had to sit through ELO
But on Last Train To London aand Living Thing
I nailed the fucking falsetto

And she laughed so much I had to grab the wheel
You could see the east coast getting pink
She turned the radio off and we stopped for a while to just watch it and think
And we talked about early REM and Husker Du
Just this side of Newcastle she turned to me and I said
Little girl, I wanna marry you

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TOO GOOD FOR ME, by Na-Na, Vic On The Park, 31/8/01

She wonders what I'm doin
If I'm screwin someone else
And she wonders what I'm thinkin
I've been drinkin by myself
And she wonders if she ever should have gived her number to me
She's too sweet
Too good for me

She's standing in the corner
With a smile just for me
And I make her heart get warmer
At least that's what she tells me
And I wonder if I really should have opened up that far
She's a star
I don't know where she are

She walks home expecting
A red button that will flash
And I really want to call her
But I know that I'm too smashed
She's too pretty
Too good for me

She lies alone and hugs the pillow
Smells a bit like me
Meanwhile I'm doing
Exactly the same thing

And she throws herself upon the world
And waits for it to hit
As I lie ther thinking bout her
And the walls start closing in

And I lie there and I want her
And I lie to myself
I wanna live the life she made for me
And hold her to my breast

And the hardest thing is understanding life works just that way
And the easiest is asking if I can stay
All weekend
Just a day
All weekend
Just another day

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KEATSWATCH2, by Ica:

the scene - a QUIET wednesday night. I had just cooked a curry for MYSELF was settling in to watch Two Hands on Foxtel (Bryan Brown - top film) the cats were nestled quietly purring away at my feet in front of a heater and theres a repeated knock at the door. Now if I was from the Andrew the Beared Punter school of door knocks I would ignore it and carry on. But on the off chance it was a stray visitor I had to open up. and the smell hit me as the dribble formed and came out with the usual inane greetings and how is Mr Kairouz for the 15th fuckign time as Bryan Brown points a gun and says "sorry Jim but you're gone cunt" , .......... eventually the cunt gets interested in the film AND STARTS FUCKING COMMENTATING ON IT TO ME. the cunt !!!

Giving political opinions about a fuckign GANGSTER film for FUCKS SAKE !!!!

Mr Kairouz and Mr Kenyon arrive home 10.15 HE"S STILL THERE !!!!

Keats: My squatter is still there

Me: oh yeah how much rent do you charge

Keats: Nothing

Me: Oh you get sexual favours instead then Bill

Keats :No

This was followed by an inane blame-everyone-else-for-your-problems-except-yourself opinion on why Keyesies album is not out. My answer: he's a lazy prefectionist cunt Keats: oh but he was let down by his website developer

Me: why didn't he SACK him then

i will be moving very shortly sir this cannot carry on.

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OH BERNIE PART II, by Na-Na

You can tell it's an away game
All sobriety and song
Play us one we don't know yet
And play it all night long

This is not like what it used to be
It's all neon tragedy here
But you've got to do what you have to
And I need another beer

And while I'm there do you want a special?
Coz these fucks don't know what you like
And they're not the type to buy you one
It's all get laid or pick a fight

And it's a tough room but you're doing well
Win 'em over, one by one
I can tell it's an away game
All sobriety and song

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BOB POLLARD v KEVIN SHEEDY by TJB

She announces her presence by her absence
He defines his worth by his girth
Across centre half forward

Please don't judge them by the way they say Reeeeschs
They that have so many confederates in the closet
Is the value of a game judged by the depth of the shame?

When Jack Curtin looked down on his Brunswick Boys
He never knew he'd be the one to send them to the front line
Not to kick goals, but to take a bullet, maybe

Somehow, someday those Roy Boys are gonna rise for Jack
The way they should

In a way no cunt who buys a team and calls it a franchise thereby turning his back on both community and history will ever know
Nor DESERVE

Chicken Smallhorn would understand the passion in my town
Of a young man growing older

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OVERHEARD #1:

Matty: You know when you like a band but hate the fans? It's like that!
Bails: Toto!

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WATCHING MATT ONE NIGHT (Na-Na)

Is he just now feeling the day?
Or is he just bored shitless?
He is still there up on stage
And I'm just bearing witness

Watch him swing the arm just like Pete Townshend
Grin a bit then all fall down then
Sing a little GbV to no-one in particular
That no-one else will understand but me

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THE IRISH BARMAID (Harp, sometimes, Na-Na)

And baby I'm just so impressed, I cannot start thinking
That maybe I should curtail these heroic feats of drinking
And you just grin and serve 'em
What a face that one you've got
And I'm just lookin at your arse
And pretending that I'm not

And darlin' you're so pretty
And darlin' you so suit me
And the Irish Barmaid grins and doesn't want anything to do with me

And the Irish Barmaid talks the talk
And leaves the whole room guessing
And leaves them all beside themselves
They never rate a mention

And she smiles like she's worth it
And she cries herself to sleep
And she's only here to visit
And she's been here for a year
And tells her mum that she'll be home soon
As she takes another pay
And she's here again the next week
She'll get over it someday

And she's talking twenty to the dozen
She's worked out how we live down here
She laughs her fucking head off
As she pulls me my next beer

And he tugs upon her shirt
As she winks, just for me
It's a bitch that side of the bar
But she takes it on the chin

Coz she'd rather be in Dublin
But she'd rather call this place home
And she never thought she'd end up
Stuck in Tempe, on her own

And she never thought her life would stop
This close to the airport
She'd heard about some promised land
And came here for the sport

And she still thinks this life loves her
As she scoffs a staffie, one
And she stumbles home all by herself
And I still sit here, crying out for one, more, please, one

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NOBODY IN PARTICULAR, PART 473

Aint no chance
With that wench
She don't know what she's missin'
Or who she should be kissin'

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THE EL GIBBS FILES, PART SOMETHING

"Look at us trying to pretend that Andrew isn't our bitch"

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GALVIN, 13/8/00 6.25PM

"Hangover sex is tops, but then again, if we lived near the beach we'd probably just go swimming"

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UNTITLED, PART WHATEVER (Na-Na)

It hits when you're so far on your own that you never thought you'd end up back here
Listening to Tom Petty and talking crap to a waitress in a shitty Irish bar in New Orleans
And you realise that the girl you came here for doesn't give a fuck about you
And you realise that she's out there somewhere, fucking some crap not-even-indie-rock bassplayer that you both met the night before
And you liked him then

But things don't always smile or rhyme like they should
And I know everyone's writing records about the things they'll never have
So forgive me if I stray
But it's all that comes out when I tell the pen to not listen to the heart
But just dance all by itself

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SOME CUNT AT THE EXCELSIOR (Na-Na)

"It'll be alright" I say, not believing it myself, to the guy who ended up slooped on the stool next to mine.
"I haven't had a root in months! It starts to hurt less the longer you stay drunk".
He looks at me like he's gonna hit me. Grins, lights a fag. Asks me what I'm drinkin'
I can't remember the next 12 hours.

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UNTITLED, PARTS WHATEVER (Na-Na)

I'm sick of falling for the chicks who've got at least two of the attributes patented by you

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I'm going to have to rewrite all those songs about you and change all those happy endings

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GFD 27/8/00, 8.25pm

Lobsterman: What did you do for Grand Final?
Na-Na: Went to Ica's place
Lobsterman: Ica! Now there's a man who knows how to say "bloody"

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THE JONES BOY 10/9/00 8.45pm

"How good would it be to root a deaf chick?! You could say whatever you wanted!"

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UNTITLED AS YET (Na-Na, June 2001, Chicago)

Just when I think we're dead
You spark up and take my head
To places that it should've been years ago

And just when I think I'm stupid
You do all you can to prove it
Then twist it around 'til it spells no

Hey he's a handsome boy
I'll give you that
He's good at pulling faces and he's my best friend all night
And I hope he treats you right

We'll go to sleep pretending
That this crap is never ending
And wake up thinking
Where the hell have you been?

And right when the romance stops
It's still good to see you out of the blocks
And running towards that finish line

He's my best friend all week
Probably wants to bury me
But we'll drink margarita's and talk sunshine

And he laughs just like my best friend
I'll go to sleep defending
He's moving in here next week
Can't stop laughing for trying to speak

And I'll go to sleep knowing
This town don't need another blow-in
And wake up hearing
The station's right over there

Darlin' don't question it
I got mates, got cigarettes
And it's too cold out to see that game

There's beer and fags and fools
The best jukebox in the world
And famous sons singin songs I love

So we'll hug and grin and fuck off
A week here was a week too much
But it rocked, guess that's all that I can ask

And I'll wave goodbye pretending
This was something worth defending
And wake up crying about
What the heel I did wrong
Where the hell have you been
What the hell happened then
What the hell did you mean
Where the hell have you been?

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GEOFFREY NEVER  LOOKED LIKE A SOLDIER (Union Hotel, Newtown, 26/6/01)

Geoffrey never looked like a soldier
More like a bloke that you could break
Geoffrey was a pretty good welder
Before his hands started to shake

He could write you a song at the drop of a hat
Didn't make much sense but he'd done it just for you
And he just gave them away
(they were the kind that you'd want to give back)

Geoffrey had a little boy somewhere
He'd only mention him 'round 2am
And you'd never get a name
Just a pause, and a glazed-over eye

And you never quite knew what he did with his days
Apart from just being around and listening
To whatever it was that you just had to tell someone

I knew he grew up around Bass Hill
And that he once decked Terry Lamb
But that story never got any further
Than two upheld, outstretched hands

And he'd suck on a ciggie
And grin like a rodeo clown
Look you in the eye and tell you that he loved you
But you just wouldn't understand

And he always wore a blue bandana
Wrapped round his right wrist
Just like Mick Thomas in the 'Roaring Days' clip
Said he wore it for the Jets

I saw him at Henson Park once
He was miles away, in every sense of the word
Started singing a song to him
Don't think that he heard

He once told me I was a genius
That was after about 10 Resch
I smiled and told him that
He's twice as good as I will ever get

And when he backed a winner out Mowbray way
He'd split it with the table he was at
They'd say he'd earned it and they didn't deserve it
He'd laugh them off and demand
A story or a stand
Just something he could sink his teeth into
His head around
An audience of ten or two
An opinion to shout down
Or agree with
Anything, just keep on talking
"To keep the rest of this shit at the back of my mind"

It's been a while since I've told him
The crap that I've been going through
Haven't been out much myself
Just kicking back and taking in the view

I heard he ended up in Tamworth
Laughed my head off then
I reckon that place needs a boy like that
Not that I've ever been

Geoffrey never needed a shoulder
Seemed like he had four hundred of them
Geoffrey never looked like a soldier
And no-one ever came close to him

ALL I LOOKED AND ALL I SEEN WERE BEST FRIENDS PUTTING BETS ON ME