Archive for Punk

Armed and Dangerous

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 24, 2010 by Jonny Voices

I see the government lies like a gun upon my table

Politicians like bullets that make my gun be able,

Society will aim you cleanly at my face

Religion makes me pull the trigger when faced with my disgrace,

A thousand random strangers pass me as I’m bleeding

Spit or kick at me or ignore me like I’m sleeping,

Law wont protect he who’ll choose to guard himself

And hospitals change the rules regardless of your health,

The point I’m trying to make here using only 10 lines or less

Is don’t support authority as it’ll drive you to your deaths.

Am I Angry?

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 15, 2010 by Jonny Voices

Am I angry about anything?

You fucking bet

Encroaching on your liberties

Or oppression in Tibet,

Smarmy politicians

Lying to your face

Denial of all other life

Living out in space,

The stigma of all binge drinkers

Bankers, think tank thinkers

War, recession, copious tax

Talk of job and pay cut backs,

Job markets and depressing views

Also “Party political news”

Maniacal malaise, misconduct

No small wonder we feel fucked,

Hoodies, chavs and petty crime

Judges, murderers who do no time,

And the biggest crims we see walk free

As Mandy fucks university,

Hours I waste and the hours I wont

Weeks I sleep and the months I don’t,

Metaphors for my bleeding heart

Whores and lovers worlds apart,

Religion, power, money and greed

Taxation on the legal weed,

The cost of fuel, the price of living

Fuck you if I’m unforgiving,

I’ll take my chance and I’ll say it proud,

Fuck you cunt and your fucking crowd.

Bad Boys Evil ploys

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 9, 2010 by Jonny Voices

For fucking years we’ve called them pigs

Spat at cars and gave snide digs,

The radicals gave them fuck

And Irish armies blew them up,

The blacks in Brixton beat them blue

Steeled themselves when they heard woo woo,

The football boys, the firms and thugs

Make them get their shields and clubs,

And my mates who smoke some blow

Get harassed by the cops they know,

And all the while those M.P nuts

Praised them for their work and guts,

And while the most protect and serve

And they’re all good now, take my word,

There are ones who are fucking bent

And up the river they should be sent,

I’m thinking of that slimy cunt

Ali Dezaei, the metro runt,

An Iranian muslim home office dream

Allegedly loved cash, whores and green,

In 2k op helios came along

But 2k3 said he’d done no wrong,

But in 2010 we now discover

He really was a nasty mother,

For all the charges that hadn’t stuck

And all his lawyers, they meant fuck,

And now this nasty criminal nark

Has got 4 years for his crazy lark,

Misconduct, perverting justice

But there were many who never trusted,

But now this copper is safe in nick

And we just have to worry about the next bent dick.

Bad Education Good Whore

Posted in Jonny Voices, Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 8, 2010 by Jonny Voices

Thanks to internet dating

Or the music in the club,

I could never find a woman

For a sexy quick old rub,

And now we got equality

And women have a vote,

I’m just fucking frowned upon

you dirty pervert scrote,

And all the girls at work

Will avoid me like the mumps,

Coz I’m a miserable bastard

Arrogant bearded cunt,

And when it comes to sex

If I don’t want fat and rough,

I gotta pay some money

For a stunnin bit of muff,

But thanks to dear old labour

All the hotties are now jobless,

And maybe a few quid

Will quickly get them topless,

The uni’s sure wont have them

But you know I fucking will,

Cos 50 pounds an hour

Can buy some cheap old thrill,

You say she looks respectable

When she’s drinking in your town,

But I gave her money for her drinks

When she was going down,

So if your daughter lives alone

How’s she pay the rent,

Single bedroom for incalls

Prostitutional intent,

How’s your girlfriend feeling

Her education’s poor,

Her career path is McDonald’s

Or she could become a whore,

£4.83 an hour

From 18 till 21,

Or 100 and hour

For sucking on my dong,

I find it all ironic

That the government hates whores,

But pushes more and more of them

To work behind closed doors,

They refuse to give out options

To so many of the young,

So some of them have dead-end jobs

But most of them have none,

Some of them have kids

Cos the government pays their way,

Some become beauticians

For fucking lousy pay,

Some will work for nothing

And some will work in shops,

But more so now than ever

Some will work with cocks,

So if your child is precious

And you want to give the best,

And stop old men paying

To suck upon her chest,

you better make your government

Fund more Universities,

So places aren’t like gold dust

And your girls get off their knees.

My Nokia N97 Review

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 3, 2010 by Jonny Voices

If someone gives you a Nokia,

And it’s an N97,

Kill that fucking bastard cunt

And you might go to heaven.

I hear even Jesus hates it

It’s a pile of shite,

Fuck you fucking Nokia

You didn’t get nothing right.

Poem – Duality of Talent

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on January 20, 2010 by Jonny Voices
I’m such a fucking sell out
Lets get me to number 1,
I’m playing on the radio
In the bedroom with your mum,
I’ll dominate the charts
And be top in the downloads,
I’ll blow your fucking mind
Then I’m off to hit the roads.
I’m such a fucking copout
I’m playing stadiums,
Still listened to on C.D players
By your fucking mums,
One day I’ll sell out Wembley
With a voice that cannot sing,
My piano skills are shit
And my guitar has got no strings,
Well you don’t need fucking talent
To be a real big deal,
Just get in front of Simon Cowell
And learn to fucking kneel,
Just swallow and then never spit
And then one day you’ll get there,
You’re still a fucking cum bucket
No body cares.
So you’ve had your 15 minutes
And the world thinks you’re a twat,
And you’re working in a market
So what’s your thanks for that,
You’re washed up and your hopeless
Just for number 1,
But I’m on the radio
And I’m playing with your mum.