Song: A Dog's Life

The life of a dog is a dog's life.
It is pain. It is suffering and grief.
The life of a dog is a dog's life.
Full of fear and gnashing of teeth.

God/dog, dog/god.
Palindromes and dreams of nod.
God/dog, god/dog.
And all I hear leaves me agog.

So lift up a leg to the Hound of Heaven,
to the Great Dog Star in the sky.
Sit up and beg to be forgiven,
and let this sleeping dog lie.

God/dog, god/dog.
It's heady stuff, all cloud and fog.
God/dog, god/dog.
With feet of clay and mind in bog.

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poem by David SmithWhite
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A Letter to Hilary

Oh Hilary, dear Hilary;
you must not think ill of me,
though this letter be tardy,
it is mercifully short.
Oh Hilary, dear Hilary;
no metaphor or simile,
can express in mere words,
my true feelings and thoughts!

Oh Hilary, dear Hilary;
this I say, verily,
the distance between us
must not temper my view.
If I might speak of Hilary,
and of nothing ancillary:
as every day passes
I'm thinking of you!

For my love, my dear Hilary,
pumps through vein and capillary,

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poem by David SmithWhite
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Song: Spell Out The Blues

There's no-one who's better,
Better than you!
No ruthless go-getter,
With the dumb luck of youth.
There's no-one who's better,
Better than you!
A fashion trend setter,
Who's never uncouth.

My life's such a clutter,
But what can I do?
I've pulled down the shutters,
And choked off the view.
The world is a gutter,
A foul smelling brew.
And my writings still stutter,
To spell out the blues.
Spell out the blues!
They spell out the blues!
All the words that I splutter,

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poem by David SmithWhite
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Song: The Running Dogs

In a land of distant memory,
in the primal world of old,
dog and man were enemies;
and our story should be told.

Beyond the mystic mountain,
lived a pack of hungry hounds;
with a tribe of rustic humans,
who lacked our strength renowned.

A menace to our hunting grounds,
they laid their claim to turf;
and fenced our range to out of bounds,
and stole our birthright, earth.

Our children too were victims,
of eugenic genocide.
The wild spirit of our nature;
broken, tamed, denied.

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poem by David SmithWhite
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Song: The House of Cards

Come look at the house,
the wonderful house,
and admire it's lavish facades.
The hearth's as transparent,
as the heart of young Faust,
in the beautiful house of cards.

And on the balcony suite, where all powers meet;
as made men they're known as goodfellas.
See the play of elites, who admit no defeats,
but display their true corporate colours.

Come look at the house,
the wonderful house,
lest like glass it shatters to shards.
When you hold up a mirror,
they scatter like grouse,
in the beautiful house of cards.

Like fat cats in heat, or on hunting retreat,

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poem by David SmithWhite
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Chants in a Million

God is the father. God is his son.
God is the victory that all evil shuns.
God of the mighty. God of the weak.
God is the mystery that all searchers seek.

God is the father. God is his son.
God has the power of a million plus suns.
God is the spirit glue in the gum.
God is the single. God is the sum.

God is the father. God is his son.
God is the artist whose tall tale is spun.
God is transcendence, the ghost and the spook.
God is the history that all churches spruik.

God is the father. God is his son.
And daughters are mothers to whores as to nuns.
God makes the judgement to fight the good fight:
the devils and demons that people the night.

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poem by David SmithWhite
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Song: The Road to Nowhere

To travel the road to nowhere.
The soul's dark amazon.
Eternal peace is anywhere,
the mind might set upon.

To travel the road to nowhere.
To know you're really gone.
And when you finally get there,
to find your god is Ron.

There's something in the cupboard, boy.
There's something in the dark.
There's something in the cupboard, boy,
that leaves a lasting mark.

There's something in the cupboard, boy.
Old secrets gather dust.
There's something in the cupboard, boy,
that reeks decay and must.

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poem by David SmithWhite
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