Vile lego

are you didn’t arms, turn grinning

weren’t scared; so placed cause crying

need to grip open, open

what cha yell

ya tell doe

and driving ya

talk you because

like trying

standing dark footsteps, on sound

won’t somebody take; I’m face,

and damn figure new, I’m everything

home sucks a pack up

to turn on everything in evering

turn my mobile my stretch

ow oh ou ou ile

sometimes I out laugh sleep, drive it

is love breath bleed, is please

; make anything alive, let beautiful no way

hinge tug ring moth

ring eep ool ow

I’m a ring inside my head

fling rot rot it yeah

fall what feel, and better show bloom

before lie with backbone; yeah, turn wanna

telling spoon simple, what a couple down doubt

Naked up the morning

that’s not a sometimes

then the walls hinge up seed

rive ever his rust

his naked round right raid

it’s someone funny, think weed cool point

figured storied always, made tough that look

; face you, world mirror late

smoke still

please me, place I, cause i

someone me

the same sometimes i

all that shaking wet smile, set wanted you

don’t ignore want, shut way, make

so words belong song, if take

I wanna you you ya

but I don’t

I you ay ay you

ey ah ah

ey ah ah ah ah ot

chorus

he was ballet shock clothes, he was

a boi space baby, she showed guitar

sorry girl, obvious; that stage we wrote

This is a plunderverse that Gregory Betts and I wrote this morning on the rooftop deck of his Davenport Road apartment in Toronto; its plundered from Avril Lavigne's first album, Let Go. Not the first time I've collaborated with anyone, there's the bit I did with Matthew Holmes about two years ago at Sneaky Dee's (that I still don't have copies of), or the bit with Lea Graham. Check out his plunderverse call for submission (with deadline recently extended...). What else can I tell you? What else do you want to know? Will I see any of you at my Art Bar reading tonight?