Written 1995 to 1996

YouTube videos:      Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4

Part 1

It's in. It's got home

From the past week's roam

The light's on, could mean the shyte's on

Full blast. No quiet for me, maybe a pub instead

Or headphones, to drown out the noise of the tosser junkie overhead


Made it! Quietly past the window

One day it will open and…. what will he throw?

It could mean a war, there's been petrol bombs on the grass before

As long as it's his blood that's shed

The imbecile junkie overhead


Someone might be upset

But no one round here would fret

No one likes gangs and thugs, his contacts for his drugs

'No warra meen?' They can pump him full of lead

Bullets and/or injection(s), the blasted junkie overhead


He wants a gun himself, that's his drool

My deciphering, from the nonsense ranting of the fool

Guns make us loveable Not…. cliff-shoveable?

With this gun hell and I wed

'Get a death' Junkie Overhead


The other day, firemen found his flat unoccupied

To my bitter dismay, I thought he'd died

His syringes were all out, just no nutcase about

My patience has long gone, I only see red

Suffering the pathetic junkie overhead


A pipe had burst

So it hadn't happened…. (the worst?)

Back to shoutings and screechings, yobo preachings

The world must listen to what must be said….

And played, by the oracle junkie overhead




This should really never have happened though

Some kids grow up and, (Some!) don't care if they go

No future guaranteed, enthusiasm is in dire need

Instead of a consumer vision, of life to be led

He's settled for the compost heap, the junkie overhead


Quiet so far….

Except…. is it…. a police car?

Pigs don't fly. (When in need, no sign of the breed)

It's quiet though, could be under a bed

A churchyard flower bed - 'Here lies Junkie Overhead'


I'll settle down gently, or baby may rise and cry….

"Anarchy!" "Peace and Freedom!" A hypocritical blotch against the sky

With snarling music in the background, on the railings he'll pound

I wish he'd pound his head. Until he be dead.

I'd have to get that on film…. 'Junkikaze Overhead'


A huge Roman catapult, to throw rocks

Into his flat, and then scorpions! Insect blocks!

I'll advertise in the window of the vets, for unwanted vicious pets

Anarchy for these, tool! After a week without being fed

Would anyone hear anything different? - a crazed junkie overhead



I could unbuild his flat

Few bricks by few bricks, no more than that

So zonked out of his tree, he'd think it was the LSD

Won't need any more drugs, he'll feel really ahead

But a sick-to-death me, with Consciously Altered Ex-Junkie overhead


I'll have to post this to him

It might be a cure, might give his brain a trim

Overhead Junkie….. that's strange…. another total derange….

Best rhyme I've ever read

Posted to me….. Maybe there is someone 'overhead'!


Part 2

I was beginning to decline

I heard it right….

The man that was Out o' sight

Hasn't vanished from our existence, and is somewhere in the distance!!!

Homing in on the old opium shack

Not for nostalgia, Overhead Junkie will be back


A few months rehabilitation

'Wish it was reincarnation

A hedgehog would have been apt, for his sins,

easy to recognize the syringe-like pins

Slow enough for a sledge hammer whack

Maybe not, don't know how God'd send it back


The present pain-in-the-ane, girlfriend as well

I think is only on 'mary-jane', but it's still hell

Strangers, and my garden's an ash tray

fag and joint ends, soil blanked out by the day

Dealers? 'look scum enough, mustering, recruiting a pack

A blood tie. Of the drac that's coming back


Here two months, and in sight the predictable war

What keeps me most riled - the favourite Nudge 'n' Jab the floor

They test my sanity, show madness in me

I've sleep 'talked', sleep broken, and I think sleep hurled. But to sleep hack….

Cut the torment to size. A minus-two for when IT gets back


We're mustering our ranks too, the sufferers of the infection

I'm the one they worry, my surroundings serve the poxes protection

At the first sighting, as quick as lightning….

Assess the job, and crowbar each skull a crack

Work Experience. Or a real-life rehearsal for the performance, heading back


Suddenly, a scuffle for all to view….

A window smashed, an assembling juvenile gangster-crew….

Spluttering hoodlum rites and jostled witless, they slunk away scared shitless

With one in the cells, beginning to 'give a fak'

Failing henchmen (and her)…. wait 'till your founder gets back….


Emerging from a doorway, and a week before schedule….

Greeting with threats and insults, it's Mr. Wonderfool

His face a bruise, the colours would make a boxer cringe

Long dead. Animated by the God Syringe?

Pity. (If death's no tomb for this quack)

Resurrect…. Kick back…. Resurrect…. Kick back….


So again, round here is the haunt of the blasted narc-horse mug

The hovering, polluting, brainless, plonkin' pussy plug

He spouts 'dickhead' and 'cockend'

and in the circles of deadend…. soon to become a legend?

Maybe, though I doubt he'll shrug off this attack

Do us a favour…. pour a triple weed killer, and knock it back.


Part 3

Declining further

And do those feet at unearthly times….

Kick and shove me in his vicious, lunatic mimes

Back again and chased off, the gangster play-pair

Looptool's returned from hiding, with new tactics for the lair

A get-well jaunt, or a break with his watching envoys?

'Beyond Control name With-helld'…. a student in the art of noise


He doesn't need to try.

A fly in the ointment when up in the sky

Singing and murmuring as he zombies about

Nocturnal, a blunderer of the most devout

Above me, a restless child in a nursery of toys

The entirety of his lone, zonked brain cell - repeat if makes a noise


The treacled path is flooded to my neck….

Government cuts? (only enough for nerves, in a wreck)

By the book I need to abide, but barefaced black-is-white pushes me aside

While the landlords wait in a frigid poise….

"More evidence" ("Overhead Junkie Poetry Please. Write off the noise")


A cask of petrol, to enter the window by crane

Departed on the track….'Acquiring a light from a train'

Cat-of-Nine-Razor-Flails, until chipped bones and bloody entrails

Eternity holds the bounds of these forbidden joys

Pylon-charged door handle…. incinerate the noise


So by the book I draft the final threat….

An end to this, or for court we are set

Tantrum commotions and remarks for me to hear,

then the clouds swiftly begin to clear….

Cured at last, or the wearing tactics he employs?

Heads or Tails, Yeas or Nays, Peace or Noise….



He was evicted by the housing association, presumably because there were many witnesses to an incident.

And guess what? (Part 4)

The meddling 'Bong-Genie' has granted my secret wish

Rover, predator, make way for this Fish

Forgive me dear God in heaven! For this excretion summoned to Flat Eleven….

Jump for me fry, or to you there's woe to come,

You've guessed my name…. Fe…. Fi…. Flood your flat…. Fo…. Fum….

Growing numbers are craving for a Part Four.

We have the introductory verse.


At this point I didn't go on further with it except making it into a PVC bound card booklet entitled Druggie Antidope (ISBN 978-0-9527294-7-1). I delivered a copy to the new 'big fish'.