Bud Petal blogs here, and is also on facebook, twitter, vimeo, and instagram.


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The Bends of the Elbow

Come gather around friends and I'll tell you a tale
About one man's bends of the elbow
He was born up in the Meadowlands
Where the steelworks used to run a-plenty

They complain in the East he's going too far
They say his demeanour is ill-fitting
Though back in the inner West
He's just a tortured artist

He arrived for an hour with his head over his hat
As the faces of the poor, they were grinding
Blacked out, blacked out in a cold sweat
The jester has spoken out

The days rolled by and the binge did bite
And the mouth would nip at the moonshine
But I would be the last one to tar
Anyone with the brush of fools

Next time you feel down or out in the pines
Or amongst dentists with wolves
Just have a look in your lover's eyes
Or hold on to her dovetails.

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