Unique Horn

I’ve tripped the dot down the Inglestone plot

While entertaining ice cold turkey

And I’ve tripped the shroom in the Plymouth gloom

When the future was looking murky

I’ve kicked a million times you know

I think I’ll kick again today

Until I get another crisis loan

I guess I’ll kick another day


I’ve seen the creamy white bites of Dover

Recede into the blue

And I’ve flown eight thousand miles

Just to smoke skunkweed with you

I can’t convince my mind of the awesome size

Of this planet that I roam

From the blazing light of the Tucson twilight

To the Amsterdamaged window clones


I’ve kicked ass with the riot squad

Down in Trafalgar Square

And I’ve waded through the bloodied beanfield

With white lime in my hair

I’ve been right down to Hades

Hell, I singed the eyebrows off my face

So I delved into the Devil’s bowels

And he puked me into place


I’ve surfed the all time highs and lows

Which punctuate my span

And I’ll rise up from the ashes

And I’ll sprout wings if I can

I’ve seen my grave in the cemetery

And the unicorn was smashed

So will you tie me to an olde oak tree

And float it like a raft


© Chris Bond — 1991