The Stormcock Community

I HATE THE WHITE VAN MAN - DEATHMASK

{ With acknowlegdements to Roy Harper's       " I hate the white man" on Flat Baroque and Berserk and "Lord's Prayer" on Lifemask albums; for inspiration}

Far across Winchester traffic lights

Near the prison up there on the hill

Lives the white van man

Uneducated and licenced to kill.

 

With love and hate on his knuckles

And a plastic spoon in his gob

He spits out exhaust fumes

Proud of being the perfect yob.

 

Whose battle scars are from bottles

Whose heros are football aces

As shrines on his bedroom walls

Whose friends are from the terraces

And fights in night club halls.

 

Whose hand signals are two fingers

Who never could read blackboards

Or could hear blackbird singers

Whose family drool over TV murder

Whose hairy nose is picked with fervour.

Whose television is God

Who always has the last word

Whose magic is a three card trick

Who can't pretend not to be thick.

Whose books lie in empty cupboards

Whose pop music is heavy axe rock

Whose employer is the Job Centre

And whose prize possession is his cock.

 

God I do hate the white van man

In the error of his chavvy ways

Yes I do hate the white van man

Beating up all the Gays.

 

Whose eyes are bloodshot

Whose face is a frown of hate

Whose hair is a shaven statement

Whose complexs begat grandchildren

Whose old age is not deserved

And stoned creativity never heard.

 

Who is the master of inaction

With nicotine teeth ingrained

Who just loves to inflict pain

Whose brain is an empty vessel

In the gym building up muscle.

 

Whose life is a total mess

Whose fists are a caress

Whose technology is  a weapon

Who feels the need to clean his gun

Whose direction is a clout

Whose tobacco is snout

Whose drugs are called junk

Whose house smells of skunk

Whose kids are out there

In the street spreading fear.

 

Whose mission finds satisfaction

Getting out of his face

Striving to despise the human race

Who looks in a mirror and feels no shame

And loves to despoil anybody's game.

 

Whose hobby was shooting cats

And sleeps with baseball bats

Whose sanctuary is a police cell

Whose heaven is someone else's hell

Whose personailty is insanity

Sat round a fire of inhumanity

 

Oh help him. To help us

To save the planet from such

Immoral dust.

 

Nothing to fear

The angry soldier's grave

Is already here.

 

Is it too late to create

A world without him there?

Does anybody care?

 

I'm dreaming of a place where we can put him ; 

Is it so hard to stick them all in a mental ward?

 

Is anybody listening?

Can anybody dare?

Before their final curtain call

Up against a firing squad wall?

 

In the sad dark ages from a begotten beyond

The playground bully licks his lips

And lives forgotten deep underground.

 

Yeah I do hate the white van man

And what he represents these days

Pollution, corruption,

Electoral disruption,

Presidents of nothingness

In their dozy moral hazy maze.

 

andi