The Great British Sitcom (For Jozef Raczka)

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Blue Amber

Blue amber is a rare variety of amber resin that exhibits a blue coloration. Blue amber has been most commonly found in the Dominican Republic—especially in the amber mines around the city of Santiago and, less commonly, in the eastern half of the country. In the modern age, it was discovered at about the same time as Dominican amber. more »

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Soft soles of soft feet on soft sands,
Soft hands takes soft hands trade soft glances to the distance,
A certain promise to the seven sisters to say I wouldn't trade
My eyelids for a thousand others if it meant missing this for an instant.

The present and past in this former landscape,
The scenes that play out like surrealist theatre
Take the teacher who used to live in my house who slept around,
Her husband found out and took his own life three days after,
The reporters came looking for scandal, started speaking to the children,
Found nothing to report back but it's always the quiet ones
Or the church and its attendees whose graveyard backed onto my garden
More afraid of commitment than the ghosts at night

Raised as a believer, grew into a sceptic
Even when acting in front of a congregation
And now I've found a job but not a career
Surrounded by the real world, living in fear
Everyone's a failed artist in this profession,
Constantly putting back their plans for the sake of excuses

Angry young men turning into fascists
Villages being torn up for the sake of progress

The roads where I run won't be there for long
And the people behind it are far gone,
And the foolish numbers behind these idiotic decisions,
Who kicked us out of the soft subjects' for trying to be better,
And my university who promised me I could,
And those boys who stick to their high school jokes,
Or the local politician and her backwards views
And the bigots who'd send us back to the 40s
And the 22 year old girl who acts like she's 30
Over get over yourself,
With the thought that I might be you, I never am
And until I am, all you people make me sick!

My parents are so superstitious, never answering the phone
And I've not left my room, so I've got no idea what's going on,
A promising central premise gives way to a weak sequel,
An entrenched entitlement to a future without equal,
The world's what you make of it so prepare to produce nothing, kids,
Live while you're young, it's never long enough is it?
They've all grown up, left the towns for the cities
Dead Sunday afternoons leave me with self-pity
While my parents insist that I must leave the house
Almost enough to make you tear your hair out,
A phrase heard more than any other, I just don't see you like that,
If you're left telling lies then just cut the chit-chat,
I've never been depressed, just disappointed
That my future has become more finger pointing
What about your friends? Is what this town wants from me?
No end, to seaside isolation misery.

She said I'll love you temporarily, like the latest trends,
I'm not looking for anything more than you've yet provided,
I have to admit it's a fair compromise but then,
I can't help but feel she'd accept my true feelings,
I want us to destroy each other, I've never been the same,
I'm not attracted to anyone who won't leave my boat capsized

I am a shameful symptom of the excess of a generation,
Poisoned by the belief that we are all special,
Like a bear in a trap I've been thoroughly baited
Re-visiting my work makes me want to destroy all that I've created
This should have been leading somewhere,
Maybe if I'd been disciplined, I would have understood,
That when she said I love you, she shouldn't have to mean it.
There's a boat burning in the harbour, a crowd has gathered to watch,
Maybe that will solve our issues, maybe not.

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