Thanks to Andy Seager who sent me a copy through.
Yet – Roy Harper – a Poem
I’m alright Jack saves his face
His tabloid keeps his soul,
Papers over any trace
Of an outside world
The magic headlines foul the air
With verbal diarrhoea
The lingo of the sole routine of nowhere
The system has him by the balls
He struggles to be free
But all he knows is animal
And pecking hierarchy
Right on time his hackles climb
Then lead him unaware
Into the gaping sole routine
Of nowhere and nowhere else, nowhere else
So tragic that this heart of hearts
This font of truth
And finest thoughts permitted
Nowhere else
The faces on the hooks of hell
Strung out on desolation
Lie scattered in the haunted shell
Of hypodermic heaven
The dispossessed, the great unwashed
The debris of despair
All bred to bear
The sole routine of nowhere
I can’t believe a promised land
With propaganda thugs
Reminding me of why I’m cloned
I’d rather have the drugs
To block my brain out
Rip my guts out
Tear my name to shreds
Than give in to the sole routine of nowhere and nowhere else
And nowhere else except the concrete jungle
With the savage acquisition
Fit for grasping lust
For one last bit of plastic credit
Streaming shit into the pit
Of nowhere else
And yet………