A word from the sponsor
by John Smallshaw
We are the fine cut...line cut..
..potato face on Irish lace.
We are the here..we are the place.
And just in case
You fail to understand.
We have become the wall art..the new start..
..the baby grand has grown.
We are the music you've never known but you know it now.
The anyway we can be anyhow.
This is the step that walks out on the street
Get out and meet it...it's something you cannot ignore
Not something you buy in a la de da store
But the free in your ears and the world in your eyes.
Prise yourself away from the dusty thoughts of yesterday and look
This is today and a new kind of book has evolved.
That talks as it turns and revolves as it burns and the ash of the script..
..strips layers off your skin..and should you want to dive in..
The start of a thread of whatever you've ever read disappears
And the years drip away.
This here is the place and today it's your face on the pack
Get up on the stage and attack..
Lay them flat on their back with a salvo of sound
Bring it down to the ground.
A penny buys a pound..we'll be outlawed
They'll call us flawed characters..
But let's capture that thought..write stuff and not like you've been taught..
..but be brazen and balls to the 'Man' who tells you.."OH NO"
He just ain't got the rollocks to be in the show.
Let it go and you're lost
You'll be reading shinola that you bought at cost from the stall in the mall.
Be a pal..break the mould..don't do as you're told but do as you do
Look inside of the you..and bang it out..put it down on a sheet
Spill out your words to those people you meet..you've got one chance..
..which is no chance if you don't take it.
Get out there and
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