Daily Archives: June 5, 2007

The Music in my Mind

Every morning when I wake up I have a song in my head. Like dreams, they don’t seem pertinent to events in my life but I can’t help but wonder if they’re more relevant than I think. There have certainly been times when the song seemed the perfect soundtrack for recent events but those occasions have been rare.

These songs start playing as soon as I wake and may continue all day though it usually stops about the time I get out of the shower; saving me the expense of a waterproof iPod cover. The most annoying part of this is when I wake up and want to go back to sleep. I lay there trying to doze off but I keep hearing the tune-of-the-day. I guess I should be happy it’s music and not voices but at times it can be just as disturbing. For instance, the last 5 or 6 days I’ve been waking to the tune of Punchbag by Lol Creme and Kevin Godley. I love this tune, in fact, I love the entire album but I don’t have a clue why this song has decided to take up residence in my brain for such an extended period; I haven’t listened to it in well over a month. Then there’s the fact that it doesn’t describe any past experience I’ve had. I was usually the puncher not the punchee.

I guess it could be worse if, say, I had Cher’s ‘Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves’ stuck in my head for a week. I’d have to kill myself after the second day…or hour. At least Godley and Creme have talent unrelated to designer gowns and plastic surgery!

I’m hoping tomorrow the channel will change and I’ve been busily listening to some new tunes I picked up lately hoping to have one of those stick in my head in exchange. Then there’s the ‘you’ve gotta get it out’ approach and by talking about/blogging it maybe it will go away. So here it is…and no…I’m not having feelings of insecurity or a period of low self esteem!

Punchbag – Godley & Creme

(click to play)

If I brought a note to school
That said my days were numbered
They’d leave me
Numb and bleeding
Or strangle me with jump-leads
Momma, momma, momma,

In my world
The birds don’t sing
The bells don’t ring
The bicycle bells, the bicycle bells
Momma, momma, momma, Help me!


I wish I could blend
Into the background
I’ve no excuses for my lack of guts
Lack of guts
What is it about me
That draws attention?


Fourth form atrocities
Come and get it Socrates
Got to hit back
Get down on your knees
Ready for the polythene bag


I’ve never been a natural
At physical things
I’ve never been good at cross-country running
Since the first football hit me in the ear
Like a frozen cannonball
And the knees buckled
And stayed bent
And the laughs came
And the nerve went
And “Dirty Jew”
Was written on the blackboard


Fourth form atrocities
Come and get it Socrates
Got to hit back
Get down on your knees
Ready for the polythene
Ready for the polythene
Ready for the polythene
Bag treatment


Running through the corridors
Far too many obstacles
Bursting, bursting
Bursting for the crap I know
They’ll never let me have
Fourth form punchbag
Oh God I wish that I was
Thicker than I am
And thinner than I am
Oh God I wish that I had
Normal ears
And clearer skin
I’m praying for the day
When handsome’s out
And ugly’s in


Fourth form punchbag
Fourth form punchbag


To Jesus I pray
For strength to survive
Your Christian soldiers
Smell blood
I torture myself in private
To prepare me for the pain
I talk to myself in public
On the buses and the train
My father just ignores it
`Cos it goes against the grain
Momma, momma, momma, Help me!


Fourth form punchbag
Fourth form punchbag


Booming round the corridors
Like guadiamus igitur
Fourth form punchbag
Fourth form punchbag