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lyrics

Diz: Because the possibility is infinite right?
Jon: Right. You just got to put the ideas next to eachother...
Diz:Yeah! So what's it gonna be, what you gonna have?
Jon: I'd own the rights to a prototype motorbike/ Mobilised with a dope mode for flight/ As glowing nitros ignite, we rise into the open sky...
El: Hold on tight!
Jon: We're bout to go for an ocean dive...
El: Well I'd reside where the surface is the ceiling above me/ Riding in on my own giant robot sea monkey/ I need a hand held screen that allows you to see/ The alternative scenes as to how it could be...
Jon: D'you fancy an acme invention attached to your head and../ When you imagine anything you get a flash of fluorescence/ That is...a technicolour holographic projection/ Even crashed in bed you're catching segments that you dreamt of...
El: I invented a dragon spitting rainbow fire/ I command through a hat made of day-glo wire/
Jon: Safe in space attire made of angel fibre/ I'm a volcano diver...
El: A tornado rider!
Jon: When I'm inventing
El:I got a head full of engines
Jon: When I'm inventing, I got a head full of measurements/ Have you put the child inside to sleep?/ And lost your capacity to dream?
El: Show me you're still alive!
Jon: You can have anything you like...
El: What would you visualise?
Jon: I want a waterslide, forty stories high/ A winding wall of pipes that fork and divide/ Forest like, shining like the fucking northern lights...
El: Where people leave traumatised
Jon: Their hair resembling porcupines.
El: I need a theme park you can only see in the dark/ That departs in a sheen of glowing green sparks/ And weaves through the tunnels in a showy cream cart/ So exciting you can only scream and breathe hard!
Jon: I want total recall/ Info retrieval with no momentary stall/ When I flow in freefall
El: I want to go medieval in my own cathedral/ With machines that feed into my holy dream cult
Jon: I'll make my home a deep vault of foam and teak walls/ Just so when sleep calls, I'm not woke by seagulls
El: I'll make my home a deep hole full of glowing green mould/ On a throne of beetles, In my robe and sheep skull
Jon: When I'm inventing...
El: I got a head full of engines
Jon: When I'm inventing, I got a head full of pestilence/ Have you put child inside to sleep?/ And lost your capacity to dream?
El: Show me you're still alive!
Jon: You can have anything you like...
El: It's the time to improvise...

credits

from Special School, released September 9, 2011

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jon clark Brighton

Music burns in me. Always has, always will. The power of art to create community and question the rules

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