Dark mode
Fun With Friends
Podcasts - Poetry
Previous peak charts position #28
Previous peak charts position in subgenre #11
Ben Power/Ben Power
October 05, 2016
MP3 6.6 MB
128 kbps bitrate
7:12 minutes
Fun With Friends I had a bloody good time from five to thirteen Apart from the somewhat inconvenient ritual abuse in-between Yes, that's what I thought I'd talk about this evening Because, unfortunately for some, I still appear to be breathing I know this bloke's full name and he's from Chelmsford town Just in case you had trained hel-hounds and wanted to hunt him down But I wouldn't bother, you'd never see him He's been off selling real estate from a beach in the Caribbean And was driving round in a big, fancy car Whilst I stumbled into and out of the bar So he strolled through the palm trees with girls on each arm As I vomited bile and perfected self-harm But there's no need to moan, it wasn't that bad It takes more than the strangely howling night terrors to make me feel sad Ok, those naked, sobbing whippings were more miss than hit But it beats the time he did the silly thing with his shit And of course it's not enough to make someone come undone Knowing that he had his way with both yourself and your Mum And remained very popular and well-respected amongst my peers As I hid from their fists, words and eyes for 10 years And in the guy's favour, he was an enterprising student When I was first incarcerated in that fine East London unit He even visited me once, which was nice, and good-hearted Pity he left to go back home when the screaming started Thus missing me being prescribed the wrong meds What another lovely memory in my fluffy pom-pom head Since those well-trained, compassionate Psychiatric tits Decided pretty quickly I was a bit of a git Having been wrongly-labelled Schizophrenic, then with Paranoid PD Till a massive cocktail of pharmaceuticals did that charming thing to me Aside from that the stay was pretty much Heaven Surrounding by the vulnerable trying to bugger themselves 24/7 And my friend just loved the staff and of course they didn't break her When they laughed at her dad's jokes before he took her home to rape her And treating her Agoraphobia by letting her softly creep out back To those helpful bits of grit and nails and scattered piles of tacks When she swallowed quite a few they did indeed seem rather miffed But not as much as when they caught us lending her a spliff And, once upon a time, myself, I lent out 'Sophie's World' I know, Philosophy A-Level makes such crazy thoughts unfurl And indeed, it's not the point that the fellow down the ward Had also been neglected and was getting rather bored So when he didn't really like it, it was time for public shame And of course they were professional in doling out some blame And some great no-questions leave so I could breeze through the front gate And off to the local hardware store in a nice, calm, peaceful state And return an hour later to find them all back behind glass Drinking down their mugs of tea and scowling at me as I passed They may not have known the history but they certainly understood guilt As they laid it on quite thick and knew that no blood would be spilt When the crystals of drain cleaner burnt my forearm to the bone It was lucky it was evening so most workers had gone home And with morphine and multiple skin grafts I was obviously OK And everything was tickety-boo and life was going just my way Unfortunately though there were also the occasional bad times But they'll just be briefly mentioned lest they spoil this joyous rhyme The casual bullying and abuse and a fair few violent laughs Between patients, on themselves, but no, not once, ahem, from caring staff At least I got out in the end and breathed in a… fresher air And it's not their fault at all that there was no planned aftercare Because by then I had discovered you can manage any pain With a little bit of gear, strong drink, and lots of crack cocaine And looking back years later I remember how my mate Used his charm and skill and fine wit carrying out hilarious japes And thus I wish him every meaningful success through all his life And of course I never mean it when I wire up that knife And fantasise of shocking him to little twitching chunks To feed to rabid wolverines that I've got high on junk Then shovelling up their excrement to chuck it into a volcano Off of 60mg of poison so thank Christ I'm now okay though And I certainly could not wish him a single measure of ill will And will stress this point repeatedly if questioned by the Old Bill No officers, I don't know where that vast stockpile of uranium came from And I 'm certainly not bitter and would never lay the blame on And that Kevorkian Death Machine? Well, the workmanship was shoddy So I thought I'd fix it up as it's so good to have a hobby And society is kind and hearts could not be made of stone And a pissed off human being needs a good cathartic moan As the world is full of beauty and that never could be hushed And those 20 years of horrible shit are well and truly flushed But before I leave this poem I should make the last remark That if a terminal disease appears it might just play a part So if AIDS gets in my system I've considered having yet more fun By filling syringes with my blood and taking a fucking holiday in the sun ?