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The Thankyou Girls Are Pretend Men Blues
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My usual hit back, which never hits anything, from 18 03 13.
artist blues guitar london graphic designer animator illustrator robert phillips robertemerald tichphillips woolich xbusker
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Blues. Used to busk. Thankyou for looking March 2021. Love/art/blues/Rob. So, musical diary
Pardon? How can I interview me? Some streets are better than others? Some highways are brighter than others. Time of day, find a state of mind, imagination, TV, 1920s. I write about love, lost or found, hopefully honestly inspired by love, and try to play better for that. When younger protested about behaviours on my radar, and of course, being a simple artist, surfing the great times I imagine I had in another life, or maybe one day this one!
Song Info
Genre
Blues • Acoustic Blues
Charts
Peak #649
Peak in subgenre #55
Author
Robert Ellery Phillips
Rights
Robert Ellery Phillips (robertemerald)
Uploaded
March 22, 2013
Track Files
MP3
MP3 8.4 MB • 160 kbps • 7:18
Story behind the song
My usual hit back, which never hits anything, from 18 03 13. Look Me In The Eye Blues ....... links below. The Robot Is Dead Meat by 2978 AD The Robot Nearly Gets Angry I still have not a clue who my 24/7 detractors are. Why would anyone hate a mere robot, no matter how extraordinary they, or the robot!!??!! But I sure wish they'd get off my name. I feed the atmosphere foul demons. They lap it up like cats with milk. God only knows who they are. (That's right. I don't actually know who the hell they are, all day bake and have problem with Robert E. Phillips. No idea. My phone number and address go here. It'll be just little squiggles to them. No pain or injury in up front be called men right?) They'll be a Big Thank God from the bastards I'll bet. About me, the man not worthy of knowing, nay, tis punishment for me the worthless they don't. On about anything I do well. Anything. Tres uber!! It's a clever disturb and deflect from their pure hatred. Oh I have skills. Given what I've heard of their slanders and prowess as gods, they must really loathe me about now. Do they yell out and threaten the air as if I'm in the room with them? Tough guys need to swagger. And consume. Like spitting black holes. They'll have an "I'm your mother thing'. It's meaningless. A crock. It means a history they deny, yet use, maybe fuse if it's something they are 'cool at', yet is conveniently all mine, if convenient, but only theirs if the light is correct. Like artists. It means they are cowards, but not, in that they would, if decency allowed, beat to an inch of my life, but everything about them is a great guys so, no, cowardice is heroism, understand? You better. The robot better. Everyone better. They mean it. Big big chairs they fill. Tone, attitude and Meaner. It means beg upon your conscience for them to either talk properly or not punish me by never actually facing me, or else massive anyone who'll listen slaughter my name and threaten my property. It means kiss our Ares everyone in their world, they are the Kings Of Grass Castles. And way louder. I can hear them from here, so to speak. Only it's not grass, it's not a castle, I'm not a slave, nor have I been for years. For years they have all had a secret problem with my existing at all. Yes this is about a robot. But it's also a book. Someone's book. Remind them it is real, not a fantasy world. Even if I'm not in it. In fact, especially if I'm not in it. Others in parallel universes would be banged up for such word and behaviour. Look me in the eye? A whole decade in the eye? Why not? Only Ticho the Robot. I was written off maybe years ago. Why would anyone bother to ride a dead horse? Make them face me anyway. They wouldn't attack that that could fight back would they? Or is it a hope that I'm wrong about that? I don't bother. I instinctively know what will go down. I've been prey the better part of twenty years. Without any clue who would do this to my name, person, life. For nothing but the ability to entertain. Watch them act. Watch them insist. And loop. Watch yourself get an earful. Watch it whine and moan and oh my God and sad sack for their mission, which is not their fodder. Every damn second. Watch them deny it is painful for me. They can stand beside every word. If claiming 'police' and 'letting me know it' there is nothing 'mother spiritual' about them. It's about time that crock and Devil's Trick was exposed. It's my duty to throw the illegal mud straight back. Isn't it Western Australia? They are rating themselves as big as my entire family after all. And obviously do not consider themselves conceited cowardice. I am not a human commuter game. I am a robot. A man. Not a computer. I may never forgive them. Choice, believe it or not, was one of my words. Bloody hate crime on my back. In their minds they are riding what they kick withy vicious spiked boo
Lyrics
18 03 13, though it may have been written on the 16th. I'll check. Here they come the big boys very exciting for all of them never bored they can't wait to the hobo and score one two three foot tapping foot tapping me again inscrutable insatiable here they come again bif big men tone at demeanor ain't my friend back to kingdom that's where they want me to send it all depends and that only if you believe em they like to be finessed never ends
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