Down In Howfen profile picture

Down In Howfen

If I bet on humanity, I'd never cash a ticket

About Me


About me:
They say that there's a broken light for every heart on Broadway
They say that life's a game, then they take the board away
They give you masks and costumes and an outline of the story
Then leave you all to improvise their vicious cabaret...
In no-longer-pretty cities there are fingers in kitties
There are warrants, forms, and chitties and a jackboot on the stair
Sex and death and human grime, in monochrome for one thin dime
At least the trains all run on time, but they don't go anywhere
Facing their Responsibilities either on their backs or on their knees
There are ladies who just simply freeze and dare not turn away
And the widows who refuse to cry will be dressed in garter and bow-tie
And be taught to kick their legs up high in this vicious cabaret
There's a policeman with an honest soul, he's seen whose head is on the pole
And he grunts and fills his briar bowl with a feeling of unease
But he briskly frisks the torn remains for a fingerprint or crimson stains
And endevours to ignore the chains that he walks in to his knees
While his master in the dark nearby inspects the hands, with a brutal eye
That have never brushed a lover's thigh but have squeezed a nation's threat
But he hungers in his secret dreams for the harsh embrace of cruel machines
But his lover is not what she seems and she will not leave a note
There's a girl who'll push but not shove and is desperate for her father's love
She believes the hand beneath the glove maybe one she needs to hold
Though she doubts her hosts moralities she decides she is more at ease
In the 'Land Of Doing What You Please' than outside in the cold
But the backdrop's peel, the sets give way, the cast gets eaten by the play
There's a murderer at the Matinee, there are dead men in the aisles
And the patrons and actors too, are uncertain if the show is through
And with side-long looks await their cue but the frozen mask just smiles
There's thrills and chills and girls galore, sing-songs and surprises
There's something here for everyone, reserve your seat today
There's mischief and malarkies but no queers or yids or darkies
Within this bastard's carnival, this vicious cabaret...
MSN - [email protected]

My Interests

Music
Guitar
Vespa's
Lambretta's
Mods
Skinheads
Suedeheads
Scooterists

I'd like to meet:



Music:

Northern Soul
Skinhead Reggae
Ska
Rocksteady
Punk
Rhythm and Blues
Tamla/Motown

Movies:

The Blues Brothers
Quadrophenia
This Is England

Television:

The Mighty Boosh

Heroes:

My Dad
Eugene Hutz
Ian Brown
David Bowie
Noel Fielding
Keith Moon
Banksy
The beautiful Karen O

My Blog

Skinhead

"The shirts you wear are a distinct style," says Big Iain with obvious pride as he talks you through his wardrobe. "They're button down, late Sixties-Seventies style, big collar, quite hard to find no...
Posted by Down In Howfen on Sun, 19 Aug 2007 08:42:00 PST

Mod

The mod subculture began with a few cliques of teenage boys with family connections to the garment trade in London in 1958. These early mods were generally middle class, and were obsessed with new fas...
Posted by Down In Howfen on Sun, 19 Aug 2007 08:36:00 PST