Calculator Blues Revisited 1980.mp3
Fun I suppose. I like it, no one else does. Sad backbeat. Long intro. Not to be played loud. Acoustic. Flat in the dust bottom storey hobo blues. Old song from 1980 I wrote for Sorina. This is true to my early busking, the guitar hits to later.
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!
Story behind the song
Fun I suppose. I like it, no one else does. Sad backbeat. Long intro. Not to be played loud. Acoustic. Flat in the dust bottom storey hobo blues. Old song from 1980 I wrote for Sorina. This is true to my early busking, the guitar hits to later. New songs reflective only in originality and subject.
Story: Three hobos (Mid-West, 1915) await help from their newspaper article exposing corruption in the municipal departments of gangs that have terrorized them for ten years.
Why is it the hobos' fault people got it wrong about them?
The following is from Apple Jack:
It occurs to me that bullies threatening police charges are stealing love not just by terrorizing me (beat me up, name, prison, their own damn selves never looking anywhere else blackmail, the outdo me...probably illegal...and much much more), as I'm innocent, but from real policemen too. Spies of any sort, by definition, contribute nothing, not to decent innocent consciousness. Spy is fancy title for thief. James Bond was not a spy. A soldier. Without a war there is no excuse for nefarious activity. Judgmental, expecting to be paid for someone else's graft. To be spied on would be a compliment if the negative ramifications were not serious. On any level. Do I really have to write a paper on evil? Hang on... yep done it. In my backpack. Delinquency? Hang on, is that the time? We truly are middle-class English? Or just me and bastrads are on 'it' for the ride? Bold acting? What the hell would I know? I flunked acting school, for apologizing for forgetting my lines. Clever excuse? Are we only young still? Big surfy freedom, mine is bigger? Two things I leant. A psychopath wants new and something for nothing (same thing), and is never at fault. Who's mouth is shut? The 'goddesses' or mine? Who thinks/imagines I'm in the room with them? What is the proper response to that? Is this muse talk, or a real dilemma, based on someone's fiction? What is hate specific stranger consciousness? And how the hell does it get to sit like God on me? My analysis.....lies, deception, trying to tax me of 'surfing freedom consciousness mother' and cure its own damn bully history at the same time, is supported by bigots and idiots, other thugs, and its principal weapons are slander and threat, words like fair, Australian and man having been jettisoned over the last two weeks, the threat now being a real psychopathy from seriously unbalanced cry baby tough guys looking down the barrel of got everything totally wrong being too far up their own behinds to see. There is no conciliation prize, if there were, get from your own, it is not going to be me, ever, in any shape or form. All else is bulldust attrition. Ostrich.
(I had a bully at school once. For an entire term he couldn't be told no meant no. Literally enslaved me, playground, lunch, class, sport, locker room. Please say things like grow up, child, dictator, anger, upset, we love him, etc. I've got the list. New ones go straight in MY file.)
New experience. What does 'enemy' do when it can't find anything to pin on its 'enemy'? What is territory 'same guy' every day over and over? Your mama a threat too?
Why is it my fault people got it wrong about me?
Oh...and run away to 'famous nothing to do with us got a great piece of action result for kiddies boy did I suffer' world when next you think of God, and the fact that no has always meant no. If I ever discover who you bastrads are I'm seeking justice. I probably forgot a point or two, but that titillates doesn't it? The thought of me stressed or in pain titillates. As you ware a actress frown? Wouldn't it be diabolical if I found a way to lie detector you? Any of you. Care to look me in the eye before you get to God? Dirty stinky paw my wiles as I do them take 'spiritual' big love credit maybe. Forget what I just mentioned. In print. In public. This one then. You guys wouldn't be experimenting with hobo of
Lyrics
Calculator
Add you up
Plug in computer
Program for love
Fuse bx
Blow the light
Got it wired
Won't escape me tonight
TV set
Sit beside me on the floor
Everyone here is looking
Haven't you noticed me before
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